I am not, have never been, nor ever will be a girlie girl.
I don’t care for pink. I rarely (and I mean on the rarest of rare occasions) style my hair, do my nails, or wear heels. My features aren’t soft or delicate. I usually dress for comfort over style. Designer purse? Pfff. This is my idea of a great bag:
My nonconformity to the conventional codes of femininity often leaves me feeling like a blemish on the face of womankind. At thirty, I thought I would be over this by now. As it turns out, I’m not.