Papillon

Anyone going through Papillon’s blog will see from the comments that her story has resonated with many people who have had different experiences. One person, Little Ms Dalu, a Sudanese student in America, has written a very compelling post on this subject and how she has identified with a lot of what Papillon has been through: "her writings speak to me and give me some comfort and I feel less alone".

That particular article was primarily about “Body and Soul” but another one I know many women relate to is “The Great Femininity Mystery”. I know I do. I spent miserable times when I was young thinking I wasn't up to the standard I saw as a requirement of femininity, primarily long-STRAIGHT-blonde-hair. I know, it seems ridiculous now and I have come to realise that femininity comes from within and not from external props.

Anyway, I’d like to join with Ms Dalu in thanking Papillon for her articulate and honest writing.

Shiraz said:

I have realised that I have missed some comments from Papillon's blog. I don't always notice them if they appear several days after the original post. I noticed this one which I thought worth a post of its own. Shiraz, the commenter, didn't leave a link.

Dear Papillon

What a coincidence that the question you ask here is exactly the question of the year for me! In fact, I haven’t been circumcised, but the question affects me personally because, as a result of the environment in which I was born (Moslem, not fundamental but practising) I have always felt circumcised in my head.

Although my family is very “modern” as far as the status of women is concerned at work for example, I have been expressly forbidden from being too close to men, and to avoid having these problems I prevented my femininity from blossoming freely, I succeeded in forgetting I had a body because it was of no use.

I believe that physical circumcision is the most extreme expression of the repression of women’s bodies, and I do not see how one can be feminine, accept yourself as a woman, if our environment refuses to let us enjoy our own bodies. In wanting to kill femininity, these societies only make themselves sick.

To answer your question, Papillon, it’s several years now that I have been following “body therapies” such as yoga, tai chi, chiropractic, to put myself back in touch with my body.

As for femininity itself, I’ve made some fascinating discoveries this year since being in England. I’ve discovered “pagan” communities, inheritors of Celtic traditions where, like all pre-monotheist civilisations, Woman is held in high esteem, and each woman is considered to be the image of the Goddess. I am not criticising monotheist religions, but since I rediscovered these traditions, I am immersing myself in all sorts of books which suggest “archetypes” which we can refer to as we develop ourselves as women., in effect, consider that there are the goddess-mother, the goddess-warrior, the goddess-priestess, and they are all WOMEN. I don’t intend becoming a pagan priestess, far from it, but I think that immersing yourself in this ancient wisdom allows you to build mental models, which are universal because everlasting, and which you don’t necessarily find within your family.

So, it was very long, but I hope it makes sense!! Thank you for your blog, and I will be thinking of you very, very much on 16 May!

Papillon update

Her latest posts (two of them) translated into English start here, and the originals are here. The latest starts to question her femininity, a very big topic I would say.

As always, please let me know if I've made any awful mistakes in translation.

My friends: skirts

Monday 25 June 2007

Yesterday evening I realised something amazing.

In 40 days I haven’t worn trousers. Well, if you don’t count large pyjama bottoms in which I spent one or two Sundays, I’ve worn NO trousers in 40 days. I’ve worn nothing but skirts for over a month. Every day! Isn’t that totally ridiculous? That hasn’t happened in such a long time that I can’t remember my previous record. That's to say, what has happened to me is revolutionary.

What’s more, I feel normal.

So obviously for the unconditional follower of trouser-wearing that I am, things can’t be reversed without pain.

At the beginning of my convalescence it was easy, I was nothing but pain and suffering. The extreme sensitivity of my genital zone left me distrustful of all my close fitting clothes in my wardrobe, and trousers even more so. I could see that my comfort and well-being was possible only in a skirt. I was already in pain and I wasn’t going to add to it by trussing myself up in trousers.

That lasted all the time I was off work. I was at home, my bare legs gave me the impression of being by the sea in the summertime.

When I went back to work I wanted to wear trousers again as usual, as the pain and even the pulling were no more than vague memories, and the itching which remained with me didn’t bother me.

Only, I pictured the ravages which the friction from the crotch of my trousers could cause on my clitoris while healing, and I trembled.

So I rejected all my clothing values and decided to follow a skirt cure.

Standing in front of my wardrobe I discovered several things. First I didn’t have many skirts, barely ten. And of these ten or so, very few were suitable for my professional working environment. I’ve bought skirts only to have around during the summer. I don’t even have a suit, that is to say of the sort I need.

I’ll pass by on the humiliating report on the remaining number of skirts which no longer fit me. Seeing that I rarely wear them and only in the summer, I obviously didn’t know that they were shrinking (my theory is that a skirt unworn is an unhappy skirt. And everyone knows that an unhappy skirt shrinks.).

I had to call on some smart dresses which I have to enhance the pile of wearable skirts, and in order not to wear the same thing every three days.

Then I realised the point at which it was hard to lose my automatic reflexes. How many times did I calmly open my cupboard on the left and take out a pair of trousers while humming, before realising it wasn’t going to be possible? How many times did I lose the thread of my thoughts in front of my cupboard on the right, troubled by seeing no trousers there?

Honestly, I battled to undo what I hadn’t realised was an addiction until I found myself confronted with the necessity of shunning my adored trousers. It wasn’t easy.

What’s more, I had to review my depilation strategy because I could no longer hide my legs.

I benefited by chance from my operation taking place during the spring and not the winter. That way I could skip tights, stockings and the like (especially as I’m permanently depilated). I don’t know why, or rather if, I do know why, my tights practically never survive an unfortunate encounter with my nails. If I manicured a bit more often, my nails would be less jagged and my tights would have peace.

Good, so it’s summer, so no tights. Even though in a strong wind or rain, I’m cold, even very cold. It doesn’t matter too much you see, I live in Paris. That implies that the time I’m in the open air is more than limited (long live public transport). So I clench my teeth, my pullover, my legs and speed up my steps. And the cold is bearable.

What’s more, there are the looks from the flatterers. I had never realised how much success you could have in a skirt. Even with shadows under your eyes, spots (hoorah for spring) and not even a low neckline. It’s rather pleasant I have to say.

My love being greatly in favour of my decision to wear skirts, I envisage buying a load of them during the sales.

My goodness, I don’t recognise myself.

It’s ridiculous the effect it has had on me. Because it’s mellowing wearing a skirt. At least it’s had a strangely calming effect on me. I wasn’t masculine to start off with, far from it even, but the speed with which I’ve got used to myself in skirts, I’m going to transform myself into a femme fatale without the time to say "oof". If that happens I’m going to have a passion for high heeled shoes any time soon.

My God!

In the end though, what comes out of all that is that it isn’t so difficult to wear skirts. Nevertheless, since nature returns at a gallop, even if you send it out to graze, I tried on my largest jeans yesterday evening. Just a question of finding out my clothing options.

It started really well. I managed to do up the buttons and take a few steps without any problem.

It was only when I sat down that I knew that I wasn’t ready to put on my favourite jeans again. They still aren’t at all acceptable to my convalescent zone. Which hastened to protest with a painful discomfort. After that, even standing, the charm was broken. I wanted to pull down on the crotch of my jeans and even keep it like that permanently, between two fingers. Unfortunately that isn’t at all classy and what’s more it keeps one hand occupied full time.

I therefore, wisely, returned to my skirts.

I’m going to be patient a little longer, hoping that I don’t get bronchitis, laryngitis or who knows what, walking around like that, with bare legs even though it isn’t even 20 degrees … [68 degrees F]

[Original in French]

Next post

The great femininity mystery

Wednesday 4 April 2007

My cousin told me she feels inferior, less of a woman than others. It’s a feeling I experience too from time to time: I feel my femininity is immature, unrefined, primitive and awkward compared with other women. I have this feeling, for example, with my sister, who, very naturally, wears make up and jewellery. This is not at all natural for me. At times it even means it’s a real effort to make myself attractive. Besides I wear little make-up, I practically never wear skirts (except in summer but that’s because I’m hot) and I’m not even talking about shoes with heels. I’m not masculine either, I like clothes, I pay attention to my presentation but … How can I explain? Let’s take an example: it’s as if I were in front of a large chest of drawers which was hiding all things for women and where I opened only the lowest drawers, those which contain the basics, the cotton tops, women’s jeans, sneakers etc… The top drawers, those are out of my reach, reserved for “grown ups”, for “real women” containing much “sharper” things, shoes with heels, eyelash curlers, designer dresses etc… I’ve thought for a long time that the drawers you choose as a woman derive entirely from your personality, full stop [period]. Besides, I like my clothes, I choose them with great care.

My cousin thinks that her feeling of lacking femininity is linked with her circumcision, that it has stopped dead the development of her pride in being a woman the day she was mutilated. Myself I don’t know. My lack of femininity could originate in my circumcision, or my distant relationship with my mother, or an accumulation of events in my past. What is certain, is that I have especially spent time quelling my fears, that in the past and indeed for a long time the subject hasn’t interested me.

In my mid twenties, moreover, I experienced a sort of complex that I wasn’t feminine. Sometimes, even often, I come to a stop in front of a shop window containing beautiful dresses for a “femme fatale” and shoes with vertiginous heels or I admire the skilful make up of a woman sitting opposite me in the metro and I say to myself that I would love, myself, to wear with such ease beautiful flowing dresses, the highest heels or know how to make up like that. But I continue on my way, or go back to my book thinking that it’s not for me, that on me these clothes, these shoes or this make up would be ridiculous. I tell myself that I would feel awkward, as though I was "dressing up" and I feel frustration and pain …

From time to time I try. I put on a dress, low heeled shoes, make up…. But my attempts to be more feminine seem pathetic to me, they are so awkward and the result so far from what I would have wanted. Or then, when I don’t find myself grotesque, past the phase of euphoria and exuberant narcissism (My God but I’m beautiful! It’s strange but great!) dressing myself in a very feminine way and putting on make up quickly becomes an effort, I end up by taking no pleasure in it at all and after some days, I stop the expense and return to my trousers and clodhoppers for months on end.

In therapy I therefore started to find out what femininity was. So far in vain. Whatever way I address the question, the notion of femininity stays out of reach and I more or less stop and let it drop. But today it’s bothering me again. What is femininity? What can I do to be more feminine? Is it because I am circumcised that I find the question so complicated. What’s more, my sister doesn’t have this type of worry at all, femininity is natural for her. What then? Well I don’t know how to think any more about it to tell the truth.

To clarify the question I looked for the definition of femininity in dictionaries and on the internet. The Larousse said of femininity: “Feminine characteristic. Collection of characteristics belonging to a woman or judged such”, which didn’t get me much further. As for the Petit Robert, the definition it gives is “Feminine characteristic. Collection of characteristics corresponding to a biological and social image (charm, softness ...) of a woman”, which didn’t get me any further either.

On the internet, I read attempts at the definition by several people and clearly it’s not obvious. Here are some of the sentences I collected:
“Approved of as being in accordance with the representations of the female type in its social setting, and taking advantage of that in her circle of acquaintances.”
Femininity is less a question of the exterior, than an interior one which permeates to the exterior.”
“A woman is feminine when she truly accepts she is a woman, when she considers it to be a strength, an asset. There is nothing more feminine than a woman who feels beautiful.”
“It is her attitude, her movements and her way of acknowledging her body which makes a woman feminine.

What I understand from all of that is that femininity is a subjective notion. But I am still in a fog when I try to define my representation of femininity. Perhaps having a more harmonious relationship with my body is going to help me become more feminine? Perhaps the operation which I am going to have will lead me there? Perhaps after 16 May it will seem more clear?

In the meantime, I ask the question of everyone: what is femininity? Who exactly decides that a woman is feminine or not? And for those of you who were excised and who indeed want to answer, do you think that your excision could have altered your femininity or not at all?

Next post