Wednesday, August 15, 2012

Contrary Coyote

When I was little, my great-grandmother used to make my dresses for me. The dresses always had full skirts and usually ruffles and/or lace. They weren’t delicate because she knew I was going to play in them but they were cute and I loved them. And I loved to twirl in them. I’d throw my arms out and spin around as fast as I could to see how much my skirt would flare.

I used to fight with mom over them because she would tell me they were getting too short and I would argue that they weren’t. But of course, they were and they were passed down to my sister. My great-grandma died when I was seven and that’s when I stopped wearing dresses. I became more of a tomboy and wore pants or shorts from them on. All the better to play tag football or dodgeball, right?

This anti-dress mentality continued until just a few years ago. Oh sure, I wore dresses for special occasions (graduations, weddings, etc.) but I wasn’t happy about it. And I would declare up front: no pink or purple and no ruffles or lace! No way, no how.

But that all changed once I lost the infamous 150 lbs. I wear skirts almost daily now. It’s much easier for me to buy a skirt with my short legs. Best of all, now that I’ve lost all that weight, I can buy skirts in the Junior department. They’re cheaper (which means I can buy more running gear!) and they hit my legs at just the right height. That means I don’t have to look for a Petite department which always seem to carry “old” clothes anyway. What’s up with that? I’m still young! Aren’t I?

If you’ve been reading my blog, you know that I also love to wear skirts when I run. I love that they give me a little extra coverage and that they usually have pockets for me to stash stuff. But you know what one of my favorite things about running in skirts is? That it makes me feel like that little girl whose great-grandmother used to make dresses for her. It reminds me that running is play. And sometimes when I’m running and I see my shadow and I see the hem of my skirt flip up, it makes me smile. It makes me feel like the little girl who was scolded by her mom for not being a “lady” in my dress but who didn’t care because she was having too much fun!

Of course, we all know now that running around like heathens doesn’t make us less of a lady. Maybe if I’d been told that when I was younger, I wouldn’t have rebelled against “feminine” attire all these years. Or it could just be that I’m contrary and I would have done it anyway.

Here’s the thing... I love how my skirts make me feel: strong, sexy, fast, and flirty. <--Feeling this way makes me feel good and makes me want to run fast and far. It's not about being seen.You know? Because that's what I sometimes don’t always like about wearing them.... the attention they get. I saw a post in a forum today from a woman who said she gave up wearing skirts because of that. I don't want to do that! I want to wear my favorite pink skirt with the slit, the blue skirt that flares in the back, my black adventure skirt with 7 pockets.I like them!

The weird part is that I don’t mind attention AS LONG as the guy doing the appreciating is also appreciating my actual running. Is that too much to ask? But the whole leering, lewd comments, staring, and creeping me out thing only pisses me off. Contrary, right? It's like there should be selective appreciation.You should be able to turn it on when, or if, you need it. Like if I'm having a low day. And only from someone who respects you. Hey, a girl can dream!

Look...I’m human. I know it's natural to look. After all, I can appreciate a hot guy who might be running shirtless and wearing shorts that you kind-of-sorta wonder if there might be a chance they could fall off and hope that you are there if they do. Like I saw recently in a picture... ;) But I’m not gonna stare (unless it’s a picture). Because that's just NOT cool.

I don't want to be judged for what I'm wearing or treated differently because of what I'm wearing. I just want to have fun. Coyotes just want to have fun, wear skirts, and not be bothered. Is that too much to ask?

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