Farm Fresh Blog

"Are you a girl, or are you a boy?"
 

Oh, how I hated those words, words which pointed out that I was different, words which accused me of masquerading as someone stronger, someone smarter, someone who had the right to do the fun things that I was good at. I grew up running barefoot in the forest with my brothers and prior to puberty there were few clues to strangers as to my sex since I dressed and behaved just like the boys. My mother didn’t fight it. I slept with a toy dump truck at night and she didn’t care. My brother had a Raggedy Andy doll. She didn’t care. He grew up to be a surgeon and a fantastic father of three lovely daughters. I grew up to be a crime scene investigator, a rancher and a writer. Clearly her decision to let her children defy social norms didn’t hold us back.
 

"You should dress like a girl so people know what you are! Act like a lady!"

From where I was sitting it didn't look like ladies had much fun. It wasn't that I didn't like girl things, I just had no use for them. Frankly, Barbie couldn't ride a horse. I know. I tried. Her legs pop off.  Guys probably don't know that, but right now there are thousands of country girls, cowgirls, and horsewomen who are all nodding their heads because they know the truth. They know because they tried it. If you force a Barbie onto a toy horse, her legs will pop right off because her hips aren't wide enough. Now I ask you, what the hell kind of role model is that?

In the world of my childhood, I didn't need Beach Barbie, I needed Ranch Barbie. Ranch Barbie would be able to sit on a horse. Ranch Barbie wouldn't have a dream camper, Ranch Barbie would have a tractor. And a skid steer. Ranch Barbie wouldn't have a gym outfit. She wouldn't need one. Ranch Barbie would have muscles for lifting hay and water buckets. Ranch Barbie would have no interest whatsoever in G.I. Joe or Stretch Armstrong unless he could ride a horse or back a trailer. Ken wouldn't even be on her radar.
 

Despite all this Mattel toy company has gotten rich on the Dreamhouse train which left a trail of frustrated cowgirls in its pink sequined wake. We wanted to fit in. We really did. We wanted to be girls but where were all the strong girls? I didn't want to be Cinderella or Snow White, I wanted to be Merlin in The Sword In the Stone. I wanted to be Alec in the Black Stallion. I didn't need Prince Charming to rescue me. I needed Prince Charming to respect me, or get out of my way.

Mothers of little girls, I beg you, don't force her into pink lace and sandals when she wants blue jeans and boots. My heart sang with joy when Disney finally rolled out the movie, Brave. The heroine, Merida, is a girl who rides a horse, hunts, and fishes. She's a girl who can compete with the boys.

Over the years I've learned some things. Girl clothes are a waste of fabric when you live in the country. Buy denim. Staying clean is overrated and next to impossible if you have any kind of life. Girl hair gets in your face. Wearing it short or in a ponytail is just fine. You are expected to work outside as hard as your brothers and your husband. Work smarter, not harder. Most of the time it's not really about strength, it's about having the right tools.  Little girls can be mean to each other. Get a dog. Boys do have more fun.  And the most important thing - you are just as smart as the boys.

I gave these lessons some thought as I tooled around the barnyard, mastering the art of driving a skid steer to unload alfalfa hay so heavy that even the men struggled with it.  "Be the Person You Needed When You Were Younger"  I read this little meme on social media and it struck a chord. Yes. Free yourself to be the person you needed when you were a child. Be that role model for a little girl. Be strong. Be confident. Shake free from the weight of someone else’s expectations and be yourself. Somewhere a little girl is watching you. And she needs you to be yourself. What are you waiting for?