Essays

Womanhood, An Ongoing Search

When you say “women,” many images come to mind—whether it is the Soccer Mom, or the Jessica Rabbit seductress, or the ball-busting, career woman in a business suit, or the muscular, tanned skin-exposing athlete, or just the girl next door. As different as all these types of women are, we still consider them embodiments of womanhood. So, what makes a woman a woman? This is topic I’ve reflected deeply on in the past. Is it something physical that separates us from men, like our breasts or a vagina or uterus? What about women who have had hysterectomies or mastectomies, certainly they are still women after the surgery. Men who claim they aren’t really “boob-guys” go crazy over toned legs and tight butts—so if you are lacking in any of these features, are you still considered a woman? Of course, it is tied with that extra X chromosome we carry.

One the times in my life that this issue came strikingly to surface was when I was deployed with my Army unit to Iraq during OIF III. Among the hundreds of things I learned that year, one of the deeper issues I explored, and almost fought with, was this issue of womanhood and beauty. Living every day in uniform, with my hair tied up in a bun, I was in an environment that was extremely masculine, and yet we were all suppose to be the same GI Joe. Which was fine with me, as tomboy growing up, I’ve always been comfortable with being just “one of the boys.” We all wore “US ARMY” on our left tab, we all wore the American Flag on our right shoulder, same boots, same camouflage, etc. The goal was uniformity, it always is. Some people criticize that the military dehumanizes you to nothing but a number. Well, that’s not correct and not entirely wrong either. At least in the Army’s philosophy, they break you down, and build you up again so you lose the selfish mind-set of individuality and take on the identity of being a single element in a greater team. The thought may be kind of scary at first, but this is why uniformity in appearance and mass conformity in conduct and manner are so crucial because we all bear equal parts in this team effort, like cogs on a wheel, in order to make the gears turn.

So enough of Army logic, the point is that in the Army, you may be a female, but you’re supposed to be asexual in every other way.

I was an “aircraft structural repairer” which is commonly just referred to as sheetmetal in the military and civilian world. I prided myself in choosing a job that was considered a “guy's job.” Screw that, I say, I am all about advocating successful women in male-dominated fields. It’s nothing new that certain grungy blue-collar jobs are only associated with males. And here is where meaning in design comes into play; the very tools that these jobs require are associated and male-gendered as well. This is the very reason why certain people will do a double-take when they see a woman with a power tool crouched underneath a car. It was for this very reason I lugged around my heavy sheetmetal toolbox without wincing and held that rivet gun with as much ass as a 200-pound brute when I did my repairs. I was determined to not only perform the job as well as any guy could, but ten times better. And I did. My unit vouches for me, so do the aircrafts.

And what I learned when I deployed, is that there is a big difference in being a woman and being a female.

From the features that were exposed, my head, my hair, my facial features, or the way in which I fit into my uniform, it all pointed to the fact that I was obviously female. And I was constantly reminded of this fact in situations where I would walk into a room or a crowded hall and receive a multitude of stares in my direction from males, the majority not being from my fellow soldiers, but from the local nationals (hired Iraqis) that worked in our dining, laundry and other service facilities. It was at first the most shocking and disconcerting thing, and unfortunately, is probably something that every female in the Army on a deployment to a similar country will experience. I always said it was because they’re not used to seeing a woman in uniform, but I’m sure there were plenty of other reasons why they stared. I ignored the attention, it’s all you really could do, otherwise it was so awkward and so overwhelming it could really debilitate someone from performing her normal duties.

At the end of our tour, they were looking for volunteers to extend or stay for the next rotation. I was young, single with no dependents—I definitely considered it. However, after a few days, I admitted to myself I was not in the healthiest state to continue serving in country. I felt I was in dire need to reenergize and I realized that what I missed most was indeed my womanhood. I ddi my job, I did my best, and now I needed to go home and feel like a woman again.

I needed to be able to throw on a dress and doll myself up. As much as we complain about heels, we keep buying them because they’re fun. I needed to feel I was attractive again. I never realized just how much being a woman, being able to do all these silly girly things, was so integral to my identity a person. Just as being able to perform the labor-intensive tasks my job required, it was important to me that I still knew how to put on mascara. Maybe this might sound ridiculous to some people, but you don’t ever appreciate some of these things until you’re truly deprived of it.

So, about them tight clothes, high-heels and strippers.

There are some women who feel this is a degrading thing. Then there are those who feel these are the very things that should be celebrated about being a woman. It’s “[our] prerogative.” I have always found it interesting how some women truly see these things as a means of empowerment in which they raise their self-esteem and find confidence. As though, they know this is sometimes so superficial, but they get the last laugh because they know that. Or women who use these hyper-feminized roles in order to gain what they want out of society. This overall sexual awareness is a form of liberation, from conventional taboo and social mores of how women should behave and conduct themselves. I personally know a few women in the adult-entertainment industry and whether it stems from a psychological plea for attention, they are proud of what they do and enjoy themselves very much.

In the 16th century, it was an era ruled by courtesans. These were women, mistresses, who were essentially prostitutes, who used their positions to gain status socially and politically. At a time of arranged marriages, they held a large role in upper-class society, sometimes attending in lieu of the wife at social events. Even in today’s world, with prostitution greatly outlawed and scorned upon, figures like the notorious Heidi Fleiss flourished and built a ring of prostitution that was comprised of Hollywood’s rich and famous. At the time she did hold the conviction that she had the best job in the world.

Now I’m not advocating prostitution, I’m just pointing out how it can be a vehicle in which women find their identity and empowerment, not dissimilar to how women rock those stilettos heels. And these things of course, are definitely not the only things than can define women. Whatever the situation or the confinements may be, a woman will find her own way of translating the world to herself and womanhood is something that can never be taken away.