Sunday, April 11, 2010
As I was going home on the subway today with a few other people from church, a young girl, probably about 10 years of age, told me I was “glamorous.” I laughed and said I get that all the time, and my church friends laughed, because I am very un-glamorous – I dress as casually as I can, I don’t wear make-up, etc. Even my church dress today was very plain. Then the girl said, “No one’s ever called you glamorous before?” And I said no, and smiled, but kept talking with my friends.
The girl kept staring at me, and then she asked if I was an opera singer. I wondered if it was because I had two small braids in my hair, and I thought of the opera trope of the big fat blond lady opera singer with braids. Maybe that was this girl’s idea of glamorous? And if she thought I looked like that, how insulting!
So I told her no and kept talking with my friends. Then the girl said, “I want to sit by the glamorous girl” and walked past my guy friend who was sitting next to me and sat in between us, grabbing my hand. My guy friend got up and the girl kept holding my hand in my lap, still sitting next to me. Then the girl’s father came over and took her back to their side of the subway and told her (very nicely, though) to sit down and color her in her book.
I kept talking with my friends, and when it was my stop, I said good-bye to my friends and also said “bye” to the girl. She said “Bye, glamorous girl.”
I couldn’t help thinking of how I was when I was her age and even younger, how I was fascinated by the teenage girls and young women, how I would have loved to sit by a woman I thought was pretty and hold her hand.
I didn’t know if this girl was just having a girl crush on me, where I was someone she wanted to be like when she was older, or, like me as a child, wanted to get close to me. When I was a child, it was a combination of being attracted to girls because I wanted to be like them but also because I wanted to be with them, whether to kiss them or hug them or just be near them. Is it really that unusual? Women are beautiful.
The girl kept staring at me, and then she asked if I was an opera singer. I wondered if it was because I had two small braids in my hair, and I thought of the opera trope of the big fat blond lady opera singer with braids. Maybe that was this girl’s idea of glamorous? And if she thought I looked like that, how insulting!
So I told her no and kept talking with my friends. Then the girl said, “I want to sit by the glamorous girl” and walked past my guy friend who was sitting next to me and sat in between us, grabbing my hand. My guy friend got up and the girl kept holding my hand in my lap, still sitting next to me. Then the girl’s father came over and took her back to their side of the subway and told her (very nicely, though) to sit down and color her in her book.
I kept talking with my friends, and when it was my stop, I said good-bye to my friends and also said “bye” to the girl. She said “Bye, glamorous girl.”
I couldn’t help thinking of how I was when I was her age and even younger, how I was fascinated by the teenage girls and young women, how I would have loved to sit by a woman I thought was pretty and hold her hand.
I didn’t know if this girl was just having a girl crush on me, where I was someone she wanted to be like when she was older, or, like me as a child, wanted to get close to me. When I was a child, it was a combination of being attracted to girls because I wanted to be like them but also because I wanted to be with them, whether to kiss them or hug them or just be near them. Is it really that unusual? Women are beautiful.
No comments:
Post a Comment