I'm Like Other Girls

 So, people who remember the 90s and early 2000s, or even the early 10s, might remember the recurring cultural fixation on being "unlike other girls." A Youtuber I particularly enjoy just put out an excellent video essay on the topic, and it covers a really interesting angle that isn't necessarily being talked about much. 

A quick note about gender to preface things - some of the people who look like "other girls" are either transgender or non-gender conforming, and the issue of gender for trans people, especially re: gender performance for both personal reasons and survival reasons, is really complicated. I don't experience dysphoria for my presented or physical gender, but I wanted to mention that when I say "women" and "men," I am primarily talking about cis people - but I am aware trans people can also experience periods of trying desperately to conform while hiding their inner selves/real gender. (The real gender is the one by which someone identifies, just to be clear; also, genders and the expression/performance thereof can shift over time.)

So, with that note out of the way, kindly consider the latest iteration of feminine cannibalism.

Where it comes from 

It seems as though a lot of the people who talk about this are baffled about the causes of this hate. A millennial who remembers the brief period of modern society before the internet can confirm that it was very possible to be bullied for failing to conform to societal beauty standards - something that was particularly common in the 90s and 2000s. 

The thing is - it wasn't so much the actual "popular girls" who were nasty. It was mostly their seconds-in-command or the girls who wanted to be them. The invisible middle-layer of girls who were neither social outcasts nor truly universally liked. In the brutal hierarchical world of junior high (and sometimes high school), clawing for attention, especially from guys, is a vicious game. 

The thing is, parents also made some of these comparisons. Something absolutely burned into my mind is the moment in the Muppet Cinderella, featuring Brandy, when her aunt says, "you look like a girl from one of those rap videos!" in a dismayed and scolding tone - and the character's uncle comments, "you look like a girl from one of those rap videos" in a significantly warmer tone, while looking his niece (!) up and down. It was a tiny moment, but I can still recite those two lines of dialogue from memory roughly sixteen years later...and that says a lot. 

Authors, we need to knock it off

Being that I'm not only a writer, but that I also edit in the industry, I can absolutely confirm that a ton of romance books written for adults and by adults still have this internalized misogyny - including books by queer men. A lot of people are starting to unpack this deep-seated and knee-jerk hate, which is pretty great, but quite a few people still don't - and it sucks. A nemesis who may be promiscuous, blonde, shallow, vicious, or all of the above crops up quite often. Romance movies are so, so bad for this - and what shocked me was that most of those terrible romantic comedies I saw growing up were written, directed, and produced by men, especially men who sneered at the whole format. So...basically, men were presenting a "cool girl" and saying that she was better than other women. And as Aonso and some of the other creators linked in this essay put it, we wonder why women hate each other and themselves.

When it changed for me 

Two things happened when I was a teenager that made an important crack in my understanding of other women - first of all, I started to be attracted to girls. It's possible to hate people you're attracted to; look at incels, for example. Hell, that term was coined by a bi woman and was used by her and other queer people who felt undateable, and were trying to fix themselves so they could find love. (As usual, the worst kind of men invent nothing, and make what they steal, worse.) 

The other thing was - after a terribly unpleasant stint in private school in eleventh grade, which was a terrible five-month period, I returned to public school - but I started to dress the way I had always secretly wanted to. That meant (sigh) the boy-jeans that fit me under sarongs, long circle skirts with embroidery, peasant shirts, and that kind of thing. I had always loved clothing like that, and a brief stint of wearing a uniform made me decide firmly that I was going to wear the clothes I loved, damn it. 

And somehow, people not only thought that was cool - but they liked me and were friendly. It helped that the high school had a reputation for being nerdy and academic, but it was still an inner-city school, which made for a diverse population. And here's the twist - not only did I not get bullied, I had a great year and a half there, and I even friendly relationships with some popular girls. Finding out that pretty girls, even actual teen models, could be fun, smart, and sweet changed everything. 

I had a bad period with my counselling faculty in university as well, which sparked a nearly fatal depression - but that didn't make me hate all other women. The thing is, "nerdy" and "unconventional" girls can be just as vicious and mean as the "popular" ones - and to my later surprise, men can be every bit as petty and vicious and underhanded. I've seen it in professional communities, both my own and in the medical and business worlds, and I've even seen this kind of backbiting in queer communities. So why does it keep happening?

The core of the problem 

In psychological terms, it appears that most girls and plenty of women (and men) seem to not only view others based on their external interests - but as Aonso puts it, they assume that other people aren't as genuine about their interests, and are either "faking it" or doing it for "clout" or "attention". The thing is - a lack of theory of mind, understanding that other people have their own inner worlds, combined with a presumption of an external locus of control (i.e. letting the world's judgements determine what's important to you and what you should do), perfectly describe the things we assume about other women. But - it's easily disproven by talking to these "other girls". One of the greatest revelations of my life was discovering just how many "dumb" girls were pretending to be stupid just to avoid intimidating men and others. 

A fundamental lack of empathy for "other girls" is the justification for hating them. In the earlier decades, bullying definitely was an issue, but it doesn't fully explain why this hatred for the "other girl" is so deeply encoded. 

Combined with the mournful loneliness of societal prejudices experienced for failing to conform, as well as social rejection, plenty of "not like other girls" girls/people turn inward and try to find something about themselves to like. Being unlike one's tormentors is generally the first thing to notice - and accepting one's differences, especially if they result in being othered, can be comforting. 

However, just because it's a coping mechanism doesn't mean it's healthy. Destructive social dynamics are the price of being a member of a social species. The only way to deal with it is fighting the internalized social protocols of Western culture (i.e. don't talk about what's Important to you, don't say things that will make waves, even if they're really nice compliments; be innocuous but not too boring, etc). The patriarchial standards based in the most toxic core of North American culture, especially WASP (White Anglo-Saxon Protestant) and whiteness culture, are killing all of us. But they don't have to, because we are already more than what we've been taught to be.

What I think now

In addition to this, a memorable social psychology class of mine focused on the ways that "alternative" people - which, I suppose, includes yours truly - still conform to dress codes within their own subcultures. When one considers an "alternative" girl next to, say, a sports team, of course she looks different. But stick that girl on tiktok and look under the right hashtags, and it's easy to see more visual similarities between clothing styles of alternative people. So - those "other girls" just need to band together and enjoy each other's company and similarities, and with the internet, that's possible like never before.

So, other girls? They're great! Finding out that first of all, pretty girls aren't actually vicious monsters out to destroy relationships and friendships, was wonderful. There are a lot of other people who adore reading, writing, talking about social justice issues and politics, tabletop RPGs, knitting, moody folk and rock music, true crime of the cult and con artist variety, history, shiny rocks, magic, making jewelry, baking and cooking, fashion, drawing, tea, and learning languages (to cite most of the interests I can think of at this exact moment). Not only that, I've learned to present my interests more appealingly in conversation, so they're more approachable and so I can hit the highlights for people who are interested but less knowledgeable. Discovering the joy of shared interests and the skill of sharing my interests has made my adulthood a rich and socially satisfying period, and I can only hope others can attain this level of warmth, friendship, and support.

Next time that little nasty whisper rears its head, or next time some guy mentions that a woman is "not like other girls" - ask, "what's wrong with other girls?" Embracing the shadow-side of other-girlness, and learning how to do makeup, dress provocatively, and appreciate one's own sexuality (or lack thereof) will not magically turn a woman into a brainless zombie or a soul-sucking, seductive vampire. If anything, we should explore these societally-shamed tropes, and appreciate the diversity of people who both identify under and branch out from the feminine gender. We have barely even begun to create societal roles for nonbinary people, but trans and nonbinary folks are also bringing forth a lot of creativity and wonderful content. Masculinity and femininity should be umbrellas, not cages - but self-hatred has never unlocked a cage from within. 

***

Michelle Browne is a sci fi/fantasy writer and editor. She lives in Lethbridge, AB with her partner-in-crime and their cats. Her days revolve around freelance editing, knitting, jewelry, and learning too much. She is currently working on other people’s manuscripts, the next books in her series, and drinking as much tea as humanly possible.

Find her all over the internet: * OG Blog * Mailing list * Magpie Editing * Amazon * Medium * Twitter * Instagram * Facebook * Tumblr * Paypal.me * Ko-fi

Weird Sex Books Can be Art, Too

 I was listening to my Play Later queue on my favourite podcast app - like my Youtube Watch Later playlist, it's rather unwieldy and extensive - and as usual, I ended up adding a recent episode that caught my fancy. 

This one happened to be about what might be the most notorious Canlit book, or even the most notorious Canadian book, of all time - Bear. 

Yes, I'm talking about the book where a woman falls in love with and has sex with a bear. That book. 

Content warning for sexual subject matter and allusions follows - if you couldn't tell by the title. Read at your own risk. There will also be spoilers for this and a few other books. As an additional note, I refer to "men" and "women" in this post, but it does not encompass the issues faced by fellow members of the LGBTQ+ community - although those issues are most comparable to the ones faced by those society perceives as women.

In case you want to follow along, here's the podcast.

Source.

Wait, come back

First off, I'm not going into any of the really explicit details. Here's the thing about sex - although many people, particularly Americans, have been trained into puritanical instincts of shock and fear at the mere mention of it, it's part of life. And sex on the page and in media isn't just about the physical act. It can show you things about the characters' relationship to each other. Masturbation or fantasies, solitary sex acts, can be used to show a character's mental state, self-esteem, or even frame them in the societal perceptions of others. 

One thing that's interesting is that - the entire thing is consensual. Yeah, yeah, I know, bestiality - but there isn't a sexual assault or aggressive force. Modern Amazon erotica, fanfic, and Litererotica certainly include more forceful encounters, as well as accidental ones, but this particular book takes a rather gentle approach.

(I am not endorsing bestiality in real life; animals cannot adequately consent. But it's okay for books to do weird, transgressive things; the issue of consent in fantasy and fiction is a thorny one that I won't get into here because it's so lengthy. The too long, didn't read version is - it's fine, because it isn't real life.) 

That said, the leisurely pace and naturalistic descriptions, as well as the exact use of the bear's tongue that you're expecting, lend a focus to female pleasure. That's somehow still a taboo topic even in this post Fifty Shades of Grey world; the MPAA has different standards for female and male bodies - to say nothing of nonbinary and trans bodies. 

But the world of literature has always smuggled in strange, weird, kinky things in the name of art. That might partly be because of the titillating thrill, but these peculiar pecadilloes are usually meant to show something about the world and characters, as I said previously.

So what's the book really about? 

The issues of settlers versus the Indigenous people, accommodating nature, the constructed world versus the natural one; gender differences, fantasy, fairy tales (Indigenous versus Western) - there's so much in this book. 

It's not even the first time I've noticed weird sex things in a literary fiction work - or Canlit in general. Margaret Atwood's Lady Oracle had weird, kinky waltzing in an attic, with a taxidermist; Oryx and Crake and Year of the Flood include some creative descriptions of dancing sex workers dressed like bird and lizard girls, as well as more disturbing child-related content (which is, of course, never condoned). Michael Ondaatje's In the Skin of a Lion, from the English Patient series, includes a vivid description of snowballing. Leonard Cohen's Beautiful Losers includes both explicit and implied allusions to - well, the kind of sexual acts that one imagines when writing a novel during a summer of heat stroke. Anal sex, threesomes, forced masturbation - there's a lot. The poetry of Leonard Cohen and Shane Koyczan also spare few details. Timothy Findley's The Wars has a very, very specific description of gay pony play involving a scarf, as well as a sexual assault.

And that's just Canada. We're not even talking about Steinbeck's Grapes of Wrath breastfeeding scene or the fact that Lawrence of Arabia (the first book, apart from Bear, that I haven't read) included lengthy descriptions of sexual assault that - allegedly - were the author's fantasy, and did not happen. But why are all of these books not considered smutty or derided as "trashy" romances? 

Not like other girls 

One thing about the interview, and about literary fiction in general, is that there is a sense of disdain directed at works intended to titillate women, or rather, political women (i.e. those who are perceived as women by society, whether or not they identify or are such). Somehow, it's fine to talk about sex as long as you don't get too turned on. In practice, of course, this means that men can write about pretty much whatever they want and still be considered Literary or Respectable. But if a woman(+) strikes a certain tone or is anything less than documentarian or even sneering in her interests - Lady Oracle's dismissive attitude towards romance comes to mind - then surely, it is but the frippery of feminine creatures. (More about this can be found in Dangerous Books for Girls, an excellent work.)

Despite critiquing the sexual prudence and hypocrisy of the Victorians, it would seem that Bear is not above the same snobbery. Victorians and their earlier counterparts panicked at the thought of women fantasizing, perhaps - gasp! - demanding more from their husbands, or worse, not marrying at all! Alexandre Dumas (pere) alluded to this in The Count of Monte Cristo, when Eugenie Danglars runs off with her lover, another woman, though he was fairly sympathetic to the character, who he described as "Sapphic." Victor Hugo even ridicules "The Thenardiess," Cosette's abusive mother, for "reading too many trashy novels" in Les Miserables, because her daughters get "ridiculous" names. 

Misogyny. It's just misogyny.

It's so tiresome. As I explained to my partner when sharing the podcasts, "when men write weird sex books, we accept them as transgressive legends; when women do it, we point and laugh." That's not to say we shouldn't accept and enjoy humour - Bear is intended to be humourous in tone at times, for example. But if we don't recognize the inherent absurdity of artistic situations, we can't fully appreciate their gravity. In folklore, "animal wives" and even "animal husbands" are a specific subcategory of the Arne-Thompson index.  Fantasy and science fiction offer the suspension of disbelief that allows authors to get away with sometimes terrible things - Piers Anthony's depictions of grown men having sex with youngish teenagers and his many, many sexual assault scenes come to mind. 

But what's perhaps worse is that concepts which would be labeled as romance if they were written by a woman completely fly under the radar when a male author is involved. Boy, are there a lot of litfic books about A Younger Attractive Woman (who is either Terrible or Perfect) who Revitalizes the Life of an Older Man. It's Manic Pixie Dream Girls all the way down. 

Is this an actual problem? 

Well - frankly, people can write whatever they want, and one can choose whether or not to read those books; that's not censorship, that's just personal choice. But I would encourage readers to try and think about how they talk and think about books, and try to take down the internal double standards we hold. This is a big problem for men - they can often recognize creepy behaviours from others, but not themselves, as a formerly male friend of mine verified. 

And of course, this lack of respect also affects women's literary careers. Men, and white people more broadly, not only get away with more, they get more money. And after a year of, to put it mildly, massive disruption in the publishing industry, we need to demand better for our PoC peers and ourselves going forward. 

And as another friend put it, "Explain why you dislike Twilight, and if the reasons are The Wrong Ones...Byeeeeeee." 

***

Michelle Browne is a sci fi/fantasy writer and editor. She lives in Lethbridge, AB with her partner-in-crime and their two cats. Her days revolve around freelance editing, knitting, jewelry, and learning too much. She is currently working on other people’s manuscripts, the next books in her series, and drinking as much tea as humanly possible. Find her all over the internet: * OG Blog * Mailing list * Magpie Editing * Amazon * Medium * Twitter * Instagram * Facebook * Tumblr * Paypal.me * Ko-fi