Label Makers are Silly Anyways

I am a female. I have two X chromosomes. I have wider hips and more pronounced breasts. I am more than just a female, I am a young woman. However, I am not a dainty and fragile young lady who falls prey to the men of the world. I have been blessed with strong opinions and opulent determinism. My heart is full of passion and drive, which often gets me into trouble. My personality is.. large. My actions are often perceived as abnormal or eccentric. My outward appearance is not that of societies typical girly girl. I lift weights, I have a broad frame, I train in Brazilian jiu jitsu. I am stronger than most girls I know, and I even bench more than some guys at the gym. That is okay. Outwardly, I do not appear fragile. I am very much a “tough guy”. That is acceptable.. to a certain extent.

I am a person. I have a brain inside my head that thinks intellectual thoughts. I have a mind that goes beyond mere intellect and delves into feelings. I have two eyes that may not function together but still give me visual perceptions of the world around me. I am Ali.

For months I have continuously been labeled as a lesbian, not that anything is wrong with homosexuality because some of my dearest friends are of the homosexual persuasion and I love them so incredibly much. However, the context that I have been labeled as such is of the derogatory type. My typical response when someone says “I thought you were a lesbian when I met you” is to simply ask why they thought that. Common answers are the way I carry myself, the way I talk, walk, function, what I wear, my boots, and the decisions I make regarding how I spend my time out of class.

I was unaware that being an independent opinionated young woman automatically made me a lesbian. I was also unaware that commonly wearing jeans and t-shirts made me a lesbian. I’m sorry I actually wear real pants everyday as opposed to leggings? I am sorry I do not show every curve of my body to the male population of my college campus? Maybe I want to save that for my husbands eyes for when I am married. I’m sorry I lift weights at the gym, and when I say lift weights I mean heavy weights, respectively for my size I mean, because I want to get stronger. I do not want to be a buff body builder, that is not my aim whatsoever. I train in Brazilian jiu jitsu, I train with men twice my size, I need to have strength in order to have the slimmest hope of achieving a submission or any sort of advantage. I am an athlete. Let me be an athlete without assuming that I am manly. I want to excel at my sport.

I also have short hair. That must also mean I’m into other women because that is exactly what hairstyles are representative of. Some of the most beautiful women I have seen have short hair and love men. And when I saw they love men, I mean they go absolutely gaga over a handsome man. Short hair is not indicative of anything, except that myself and several others just felt a good feeling about cutting all of our hair off that day at the salon. It happens. Jump off the boat sometimes, take a risk, do something unexpected and have new experiences. Just because you are not okay with new experiences or things you perceive as abnormal gives you no right to treat others with disrespect. In the office building that is life, you do not have the job of the secretary that has ownership of the label maker. No one does. It’s a null and void position, so put your self-made label maker away because it is not wanted here.

I am not a lesbian, I am not manly. I am a beautifully confident young woman who is so very tired of assumptions. I have great attractions to men. Not just any men of course, I have standards. High ones. I want people to see me and other women as more than just objects. I choose to cover my body, wear loose fitting clothing, cut all of my hair off, and be vocal because I will not be objectified. I am a person, and I deserve to be treated as such. 



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