Cheri Moraga wrote, (in 1979!) when we rub up against what’s most uncomfortable for us that an opportunity arises for personal investigation and growth. I don’t know about you, but I learned that way back in Sunday School and have been using it as a guide for my behavior and life explorations ever since. The flip side to being uncomfortable is terribly predictable and would have lead me to stay put in my little town of TX, perfectly content to sit around and complain about how fat I am, or how ugly she is, or wonder aloud, is that a boy or a girl, all to the applause and acceptance of my skinny, white, well shaven crew of ladies. What a drag. Instead, I wanted early to know why the skateboarders were considered trouble makers and why in general, boys were given way more leeway to break the standards of decency. (I found out later of course, that boys have a super rough time breaking the limits of their gender and am a great big fan of girly boys, boygirls, and other gender fucking types with or without balls.) I wanted to not think about my fat for just. one. minute. Please! I wanted to meet people that didn’t want to talk first and last about weight. I did not want every life decision to be underlined by how skinny I looked doing it. So, needless to say, I alienated many a TX boy and family member. Love is scary y’all.
Is it Love? Yes. Perhaps, if there wasn’t armed conflict happening on just about every continent on the planet, I would be less driven to write this post, but for real, we make our lives safer and more peaceful every time we just let people be. So, even though I have a little bit of fear writing this, Love urges me on.
Now, a word to the Bitches. As you can imagine, I have been called a Bitch since I was a little girl still happily attending Sunday School. I was a Bitch for bringing the “queer” to the party, I was a Bitch, for calling the first and second Gulf Wars, total and utter Bullshit, I was a Bitch when I pointed out that many of the “terrorists” from S.America were trained right here in the good ol’ USofA. I’ve been let out of cars 100s of miles from my destination because I told someone to stop calling black people the N word. Calling a curvy girl, fat, making fun of hairy women, or girlyboys, does not a Bitch make you. In fact, typical is all I can think.
Typical is dangerous. Typical, is what makes bigots and women-haters feel safe.
Soooo, I am here to be one voice that says, I love hairy women. I love women that are in any small way living their truth even if it flies in the face of accepted standards of femininity. I love women that want to be men and vice versa. I love women that one day are silky and shaven and the next time you see them are sporting pit hair to rival your dad’s!
I love a woman that can say with a straight face that I need to “settle my bikini line”, as long as she can handle me practically falling down on the floor laughing at the thought of being told to manage my bush! That’s funny shit. I will love my bush, I will sometimes wish I was hairless, so I can wear tiny little bathing suits without alarming anyone’s sensibilities, but mostly, I will love my bush.
One thing that a dear friend recently reminded me, is that we are all “that girl” to someone, so if we want to move in our world freely we might as well embrace all those girls.
If you are considering being a Bikram Yoga Instructor, I urge you to put yourself in the way of all things uncomfortable. Learn to love people for the risks they take just by living. Learn to love every fucked up thing about yourself. And, if you are like most people, you will find that it is way easier to love and give love to others than it is to love yourself. That’s ok. Try again. Try again. Try again.
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This post was written with love and respect for dialogue. It was not written to take humor from you or to require anyone to conform to some standard of decency that lacks humor. I was first inspired to write it after reading way too many, “that girl” posts in the blogosphere. Then, my favorite funny bikram yogini, got all snippy ’bout my bush! @lovemore was a great push, because, really, we can all stand to love just a tiny bit more. I was also inspired by a lovely woman at my studio whose hairy sister came to our class and struggled. Not as much with the heat but with the looking at herself in the mirror. If you have ever wanted to flee from the image of yourself, you can relate and you can change. Peace.
