For the past 17 years of my academic and social development, I have been surrounded by girls. I went to an all-girls school from pre-kindergarten until I graduated from high school in 2002. In 2003 I joined a sorority. Some would think all of this estrogen exposure would leave me a little, well, jaded, but in all honesty, these all-girl environments have served me well. Hanging out and watching how women think, play, cry, complain, eat, eat and complain, eat and cry, etc. has done nothing more than make me sympathetic to the female gender.
I enjoy being a girl. Like being a celebrity, there are many perks. Our fathers fear our irrepressible emotions, so we can get whatever we want. We can feign weakness when we're simply too lazy to move our bags or drive to our boyfriends' places to watch "The OC." And, more often than not, no one questions our insatiable desire for clothes, particularly shoes and purses that appear for only one season.
But recently, I found myself post-bars and pissy because I was mad at my boyfriend. What made it worse was that I knew my hatred was only because I am a girl, emotional and easily upset.
And look what I just did. I just upset a ton of chicks who are reading this column by a) daring to call into question the ridiculously emotional behavior of girls and b) using the word chick. But really, y'all, I've been a girl for 21 years and, quite honestly, a very good one.
I know designers, I know etiquette and I know how to make the biggest deal out of nothing. And when I say nothing, I mean absolutely nothing. It's true. Ask anyone I've dated and then apologize for me, because I, like most girls, tend to ignore said exes at any cost.
And as much as I love being a girl, I gotta say -- and almost apologize for -- just how sensitive we are.
Only a woman will cry when her boyfriend doesn't invite her over to his house for the first time in three days. Only a girl reads into little things like that lack of "I love you" at the end of a conversation and forgets to exonerate her boyfriend from that duty, even when he is in a car full of guys. Only the fated XX chromosomes can cause a human being to turn a thousand friends against a single boy. By the way, is there an over-analyzing trait that we can just cut out of there?
Or maybe, we aren't any more sensitive than the next guy. Watching a sickly-sweet romantic comedy the other day with sorority friends, I asked, "Do you really think that guys get this sad and gushy over a girl?" Of course, stereotype-driven responses of "No way" and "Yeah, if they're 30 and still single" were shouted out, but a part of all of us knew the right answer. No one really thinks that men were in the bathroom when God handed out the hearts. It just seems like girls are allowed to actually talk about it, think about it, talk about it some more, etc., whereas boys often only feel comfortable mentioning their feelings -- and us -- casually.
In my limited experience and humble opinion, I know that boys will stay quiet when their hearts are hurt, at least until they get over it, and then maybe a sentence or two will fly out on occasion. I don't think they were trained to talk like we were, or even encouraged to cry or appear weak. "Big boys don't cry" is a theme song for our XY counterpart. And honestly, there are times when I would prefer to have that closed-mouthedness, only for the purpose of saving my own embarrassment and everyone else's annoyance.
At the same time, I think about how the requirement of strength can really screw a guy over. Don't believe me? Well, about 500 guys just became pledges for fraternities, and I don't think respecting someone's emotions or even schedules is a consideration at this point in their University career. Plus, what happens when the going gets too tough and the only options are thinking, crying, talking or all three? I would hate to think guys hide it all the time.
I think both sides of the fence experience perks and problems with their respective gender. My only advice is to embrace what you got. I mean, really, how cool is it that we can scare 50-year-old men into "Yes, honey's"? And how great is it that a boy doesn't always need a stall? ... If you know what I mean.
Callan can be reached at blount@cavalierdaily.com.
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