When I was young, femininity came easy to me. I yearned to wear dresses, skirts, pink, bows, every hairstyle in existence, and sparkly jewelry, because more meant the more feminine I felt, and therefore the more pretty I felt.
Being single digits, I was unaware that I was already at the whims of societal constructs. But I don’t necessarily look back at that version of me with pity. In a weird way, I admire her because her intention was to feel pretty and there wasn’t a conscious trace of the male gaze.
Now, I either feel too feminine or entirely undesirable. Aesthetics have permeated everything. Every little thing must adhere to an aesthetic and that feels intrinsically linked to femininity. I must wear lace or pointelle pajamas because a large t-shirt and sweats may be too masculine and I can’t stomach a moment where I’m not pretty. What if the man in my mind sees?
My towels can’t just be any color or pattern, they have to correspond to the persona I’ve created. And don’t think that my bedsheets are an exception… or my phone case, notebooks, my water bottle, the list could go on. I do have my limits because my toothbrush is a simple electric one and my toothpaste doesn’t have a cute design.
But does that mean I don’t feel a pressure to change that when I see someone with a cute toothbrush and Marvis toothpaste? No, unfortunately I find the appeal in aestheticizing every detail in life. Because it’d all contribute to my overall uniqueness and attractiveness (despite it being entirely curated when it’s meant to seem “effortlessly cool”).
The more aestheticized items I own, the more I can inhabit femininity, because externally that’s the only way to. And as women, our external appearance has been linked to the way men perceive it. Even when I actively protest it, ignore it, decenter it — I still find the man inside my head watching me as I scroll on my phone, or walk to class, or stand in my kitchen. So, maybe I can please him by portraying the most feminine woman in the world.
I’ve struggled with this so much because I enjoy being feminine. I like wearing boots with skirts, having perfectly blown out hair, and too much blush. But femininity exists in contrast with masculinity and therefore at the whim of men.
The male gaze is a double-edged sword because being able to admire yourself is so important. So, in a way, the male gaze forces you to do so. But, it being through the male perspective is dangerous. It makes it so you’re only defining your beauty and qualities through male standards.
However you’re still admiring yourself, and removing them from the perception of a man is not an easy task, but an important way to reform our thoughts. Also it helps to remember that the standards and preferences of men are so often lacking or unoriginal so what could they possibly know better about your appearance and traits?
Perhaps femininity through the female gaze is step one. But a further step would be to only view femininity on your own terms. It’s hard not to conflate your outward appearance with the perception of others, and I think anyone who claims they don’t care what others think is lying, but finding a way to rearrange the hierarchy of whose opinions matters most is a realistic way to reshape this harmful thinking.
“Perhaps femininity through the female gaze is step one. But a further step would be to only view femininity on your own terms.”
Keira Betsch
This is something I’m still actively trying to undo. Thankfully, the man in my mind only lives there half as much as he did when I was younger, but sometimes he finds the key. In those moments, I have to remind myself of the real reason why he’s there at all: because I want to find the beauty within myself. So I push him out the door and attempt to admire myself through my own eyes.