Sometimes I feel like a transvestite trapped in a straight woman’s body. Heels? They should be high high high. Makeup? Sparkly, heavy, and colorful. And dresses? Yes yes yes.
There has been much talk on the ’sphere lately about women who deign to write personal things on blogs about their children, or feelings, or political beliefs… About how the act of creating art is so devalued and fetishised in our society that anyone who even dares use the word “art” or “muse” is chased with sticks.
Especially in a day and age where the Internet cloaks people in enough anonymity that they feel free to let loose their mean subterranean rage. Don’t believe me? Check out the rage this little opinion about $4 gas evoked…
Self-expression, whether sparkly gaudy makeup, religious beliefs, writing, or spouting opinions is a dangerous and necessary act. If one has the courage to speak from the heart, after the kids and the marriages and the mortgages tell us we better shape up and act like a lady (or at least act “mature), the pressure to keep it all tamped down is pretty strong. But let’s not fool ourselves, also scary as hell.
So today I dare you to do something that is from your heart. For you. Some small secret place you’ve been waiting to open up and tell someone about.
Do you dare?
If nothing else, go share her wonderful news!
You know, I do dare. I dare on blogs and in real life. It gets me censure and some good, too. Sometimes I hate that I do, am compelled to do this. But other times I am glad.
Great dare.
I write only what I’d be willing to say to another person, face to face.
I hate to censure myself, but as my mother still won’t speak to me because of a blog post, I think it is probably the best idea.