![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
Big scary Femmeconne
I've been asked to explain what exactly it is about ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
femmeconne that I have found and indeed continue to find confrontational. I'm not certain right now that I can actually do that, but I'll explore some thoughts.
Thought: Externals/Physicality
e.g. talking about shaving/not shaving armpits, wearing makeup, and other similarly personal choices. I am quite comfortable with my own choices and actively curious about why others make theirs. No pressure whatsoever, no embarrassment. Similarly comfortable discussing the physical joys of womanhood. No problems there.
Thought: Communal living
Part of the femmeconne experience is the chance to come together to live as a functioning community of women, with shared responsibilities to feed, entertain, educate and support each other. At this point I start to feel a little claustrophobic. I've not lived in a shared household, and the concepts I've grown up with and have adopted are that you are responsible for your own self, space, and comfort. Group domestic activity is foreign to me, even a busy bee to clean up someone's garden. The last time I did this was at my Grandmother's house where parent and 5 siblings were all squashed in together sorting out the funeral and house. Older examples all come from childhood holiday camps, which were deeply feral Lord of The Flies arrangements. I was seven and alone at my first one. Afraid (with reason) of the older kids, cold, wet, hungry, and lost in the crowd. Not character building at all.
I digress.
Thought: warmth and love and support
This is an important one and I wish I'd started it earlier before my painkillers kicked in. I think I'm resisting the idea that I need support. Although right now I can certainly use my friends around me, in happier times I've not quite resented the abundance of love and comfort and support offered by femmeconne, but have protested that I didn't need it, so why were you giving it to me? Did you think I was weaker than I was?
Thought: practicalities
I know nothing about nor have particular interest in fanwriting, -podding or -vidding. Art maybe, if it stands up by itself (which argument should support the other media, but doesn't).
I know nothing about feminism or the academic language of feminism. I am deeply allergic to academic voices and experiences.
I did wonder recently about my complete comfort with rooms of senior males (a la the Computer Society). I find men simple creatures, with a limited number of social responses. Women have much more social ammunition up their sleeves, and so can surprise you far more easily.
I can't be trusted to help with children
I can't lift heavy objects.
I don't know how to make scones.
I can't understand a word spoken in the echoey hall.
What I would like to do is sit (or preferably sprawl) in one or two sets of arms and listen to the words going on around me, do some stroking, receive some stroking, but mainly feel that I can do this without having to understand all the noise and come up with a witty remark. I want to be a cat.
femmeconne that I have found and indeed continue to find confrontational. I'm not certain right now that I can actually do that, but I'll explore some thoughts.Thought: Externals/Physicality
e.g. talking about shaving/not shaving armpits, wearing makeup, and other similarly personal choices. I am quite comfortable with my own choices and actively curious about why others make theirs. No pressure whatsoever, no embarrassment. Similarly comfortable discussing the physical joys of womanhood. No problems there.
Thought: Communal living
Part of the femmeconne experience is the chance to come together to live as a functioning community of women, with shared responsibilities to feed, entertain, educate and support each other. At this point I start to feel a little claustrophobic. I've not lived in a shared household, and the concepts I've grown up with and have adopted are that you are responsible for your own self, space, and comfort. Group domestic activity is foreign to me, even a busy bee to clean up someone's garden. The last time I did this was at my Grandmother's house where parent and 5 siblings were all squashed in together sorting out the funeral and house. Older examples all come from childhood holiday camps, which were deeply feral Lord of The Flies arrangements. I was seven and alone at my first one. Afraid (with reason) of the older kids, cold, wet, hungry, and lost in the crowd. Not character building at all.
I digress.
Thought: warmth and love and support
This is an important one and I wish I'd started it earlier before my painkillers kicked in. I think I'm resisting the idea that I need support. Although right now I can certainly use my friends around me, in happier times I've not quite resented the abundance of love and comfort and support offered by femmeconne, but have protested that I didn't need it, so why were you giving it to me? Did you think I was weaker than I was?
Thought: practicalities
I know nothing about nor have particular interest in fanwriting, -podding or -vidding. Art maybe, if it stands up by itself (which argument should support the other media, but doesn't).
I know nothing about feminism or the academic language of feminism. I am deeply allergic to academic voices and experiences.
I did wonder recently about my complete comfort with rooms of senior males (a la the Computer Society). I find men simple creatures, with a limited number of social responses. Women have much more social ammunition up their sleeves, and so can surprise you far more easily.
I can't be trusted to help with children
I can't lift heavy objects.
I don't know how to make scones.
I can't understand a word spoken in the echoey hall.
What I would like to do is sit (or preferably sprawl) in one or two sets of arms and listen to the words going on around me, do some stroking, receive some stroking, but mainly feel that I can do this without having to understand all the noise and come up with a witty remark. I want to be a cat.
no subject
That happens to me all the time, and I find myself arguing for something that I don't feel that strongly about, and I get left feeling kind of daft. (not sure if that's how it feels for you, but that's how it often feels for me. I hope the above paragraph doesn't often, and seriously, I didn't analyse it too hard before I sent it out into the ether. ;) :P)
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject