When I close my eyes and think of femininity, the colour turquoise comes to mind…
Like a beautiful clean ocean with sunshine twinkling on the gentle rippling waves. The line where the deep ultramarine water meeting a pale blue sky is the only thing distinguishing heaven and earth. I see the shimmering silver and turquoise flashes as the ocean moves.
There is a very feminine movement to the seas. Water flows filling crevices and surrounding everything it meets. Evergreen seaweed clinging to rocks swaying and dancing in its clear current. Her magic at creating geometric patterns in the sandbanks as the tide recedes. She likes to come out to play and bring beauty to the world.
Does my feminine side come out to play often?
Certainly more in recent years than any other time in my life. I thank my wonderful husband for that. He has allowed me to explore my femininity with his love and acceptance of every part of my being. I do not have to hide any part of myself with him. Of course that is the way it should be between intimate partners but so often it is not. Someone conceals a part of themselves so they don’t get hurt or found out or feel judged. They mould their identity to fit what they believe they should be rather than who they really are. Its only when you know true intimacy and trust in a relationship that you can you see how pointless it was to spend time in another’s company that does not support and nourish your soul. And this does not need to be with a romantic partner. I feel this deeply with my closest friends and family members.
Growing up I never thought of myself as a girlie girl… though I was informed recently that you are not supposed to use the word ‘girlie’ now, but I believe that was in relation to something my husband was wearing at the time so I think this context is ok… apologies if not. Living in the countryside on a farm with older brothers, I spent a good deal of my time outdoors in fields and barns where dresses were not the most practical attire… they were for parties not the chicken coop. I liked being a tomboy as we were known then… I believe tomboy is another word deemed off limits these days… I liked climbing trees and playing conkers, riding horses and bicycles. My brother used to practice his cricket by bowling at me as his wicket… at three years younger than him it was not an experience I would recommend to children today… I’m not sure social services would approve… but I came out unscathed and I learnt to dodge cricket balls quite well!
I did wear makeup in my teens and twenties and thought that this was me being feminine.
But it wasn’t. It was to give off a sexy vibe rather than express femininity. By wearing a mask of powder and paint I would seem attractive yet mysterious to others. I would seem cool and interesting on the outside and only if they dared would I let them get to know me and share my secrets…. But I never really shared them because I didn’t know myself like I do now. I didn’t have the confidence to show my true self. I craved someone seeing into my soul. To the part of me that is my essence. But I was scared that if they saw the real me they would think I was a freak with all my passion burning inside. So instead I portrayed angst. Because that is what I felt.
These were times I wore black. The hangover from the goth era with holes in my tights and pointed buckled boots, eyes heavy with dark liner surrounded by a cloud of cigarette smoke. I was depressed in those days when I felt misunderstood and ignored. My femininity was buried so deep no excavator could have exposed it. But as I fought my way back from the dark and grew into myself my mood lifted and so did my colour choice.
I love colour now.
So much colour! I like reds and oranges and pinks and blues and greens. But I particularly like the contrast of white base with colourful items in my home. In my ornaments and soft furnishings… a brightness coming through. Because that is what has happened to me over the years… Brightness has come through. I like colourful clothes now because they mirror what I feel.
It as if it is where I need to absorb energy, from colour. From lush green leaves and golden sands of summer, to varying hues of orange and brown in Autumn. The yellow of the daffodils announcing Spring. The beauty of bluebells in May and the vibrant purple of heather in August. And, of course, red for Winter… the colour of the holly berries.
And wearing colour feels feminine to me. When I get ready for a night out I have so many beautiful colourful dresses to choose from now. But I don’t often make the full effort. I’m rushing at the last minute, often wet hair and without makeup when I leave the house. It’s as if I don’t value my feminine side enough to take good care of her. When I do make time to moisturise my body and smell the beautiful scents of whatever concoction is on my skin, I feel lovely and cared for and completely in awe of this miraculous body that I am living in. I feel my femininity alive within me… so why do I do it so rarely?
I know that looking after myself is not solely about nurturing my feminine side but she is what I tend to forgo when I feel tired or pushed for time. It seems easier for my masculine side to come to the surface and I often forget that she is within me. I don’t see her as necessary, I see caring for her as an effort. I know that this is completely wrong as she is the most important part of my being. She is my essence. I just sometimes don’t see her.
Other people see her though because nowadays I often get complimented on my feminine traits. I rarely see myself through a softer light so I always find it surprising. I feel there is a hardness within me that is the ‘action’ side of my personality and I don’t view that as feminine… it veers to masculine in my mind.
But who is to say that the action part of me has to be masculine. It could quite easily be feminine surely…. Why do I believe the ‘doer’ to be masculine and the ‘ethereal’ to be feminine. She is strong and capable, sassy and smart as well as gentle, understanding and caring.
We do not see ourselves as others do. I know that I certainly don’t. But I do know that I am a caring individual and this is part of my femininity. In acknowledging the caring side of my nature, I instantly feel myself soften and I feel her start bubbling up inside… my muscles relax, the corners of my mouth curve upwards and I feel warmth emanating from within. She rises to the surface of my being.
She is there within me even though I don’t always see her. She disguises herself and tricks me into believing that she is not there. But she is in my smile and in my heart and in every breath that I take. I know I must nurture and honour her in the way that she deserves.
And every day I must ask myself what would she do? I must explore doing things in her feminine way. I must notice her not just in my surroundings but feel the flow of her energy inside me. I must call on her not only when I meditate or practice yoga but in all the actions that I take in my daily life.
I must really listen to what she has to say…
I can hear her now. She says to me…
You must play. Go and dance like the seaweed in the water. Allow your body to flow and move so that all your muscles can be free and the energy can release where it is stuck. Do not believe that softness is weak. Imagine softness like a pillow. Supporting but comforting, letting you rest and recuperate. Allowing you to let the stress and hardness melt away so the depth of you can be relaxed and free. Breaking down the armour to let the warmth inside glow like the sun on the rippling water.
See her shine from where she lives in your soul.
