Today’s blog is going to be a little bit different than my usual content; perhaps readers could take this as an opportunity to get to know me in a more casual way. I’ve chosen to dedicate some time writing thoughts I’ve had about a song I’ve been into over the past few months, and how it’s become a kind of anthem surrounding personal growth, confidence, comfort in femininity, and so on. I’ve linked it above and I encourage you to listen to it at your own convenience, and if you choose not to, this blog should still make sense anyway.
The song Cinnamon by Hayley Williams is a song about finding comfort in loneliness. It has themes of self-discovery and femininity. The first time I listened to it, I felt the first 45 seconds to be quite strange and uncomfortable and I thought the vocals and percussion to be unsettling. This first bit is quite raw and bare-boned; it is simple instrument-wise but possesses a unique musical fingerprint. However, the song slowly progresses into a complex and more robust rhythm and finds its own comfort. The song establishes itself in the second chorus with its full arrangement of instruments and sounds, and this is when I became hooked. Shortly after this, into the bridge, the song softens and slows down for a moment (“I am not lonely, I am free“) – as if to inspire some sort of reflection/introspection in oneself, it evokes a sense of falling, relinquishment, and acceptance. From there it builds back into the established melody at full force with an explosive bassline and confidence, and asserts itself until the end. When I listen to this song, I think of the word “building”, I think of movement along a straight line, a sense of natural progression. The song was able to take me from feelings of discomfort and apprehensiveness all the way to determination and assertion, with a brief moment of reflection and acceptance along the way. Honestly, I feel silly to be describing a song using this sort of colorful & passionate language (I am not a musical critic or the like); but truly, this song is quite meaningful to me. I’m not certain what the significance of cinnamon is to Hayley Williams, but I have found deeper meaning in this song by thinking about the spice itself.
I’ve had somewhat of a tumultuous relationship with cinnamon spice. I haven’t done a lot to verify this, but for some time now I’ve suspected the spice (or at the very least, the scent) may be causing headaches/migraines for me. Perhaps true, perhaps false – either way, the association is there when consuming it in food, drinks, or in candles and the like. As such, I try to be mindful of it, I make a conscious effort to avoid it. Although – I will always be down to destroy cinnamon buns, despite any headaches they may cause. I would describe cinnamon as a calculated spice, it is volatile. It is very easy to put too much cinnamon into something, and it is really really awful when consumed on its own (believe me, I did the cinnamon challenge twice – horrible). Yet, when paired with a warm drink, caramelized apples, or in a baked good in just the right amounts, it is a defining/enhancing ingredient. Just like the song, the spice is calculated, abrasive, complex, and volatile.
As with cinnamon spice, my relationship with femininity has been tumultuous as well. I believe that the depth of detail/expectations we associate with femininity and masculinity is majorly a construct, and these unnuanced associations often serve as a convenient but shortsighted way to explain certain societal dynamics. Having grown up with what are considered to be male-oriented interests and now working in a male-dominated industry, femininity is something that has often been (unintentionally) imposed on me in an unrepresentative way by those around me. Unfortunately, I’ve spent a lot of time in my life trying to subvert these expectations and “lean into” my masculine traits in order to better fit in. I have internalized shame from being associated with femininity – and from a very young age I’ve often been the mascot of femininity in a lot of the groups I was in. Though, very rarely was there ever a situation in which anybody explicitly said that femininity is a negative trait or was outwardly misogynistic in a purposeful way – I still resented that it was something that made me different. It brought a sense of discomfort. Furthermore, I do not feel as though I identify with some of what are considered traditionally feminine traits, thereby alienating me from the term even further. Everybody’s representation of femininity is different, as is mine – It has been really frustrating to be assumed that because I’m “the most” feminine in a group, I’ve got to represent all of it. Surely, this expectation cannot be met by me (or by anybody). I’ve done a lot of work on this over the past few years. I’ve come to the realization that if femininity is something that ought to be imposed on me, then I should choose to define it however I goddamn please. I don’t think it should be anybody else’s business anyway.
“I’m not lonely, I am free”
By biggest qualm, by far, with being associated with femininity is the expectation that I’m nurturing or motherly in any acute way. As a society, there is a lot of pressure on women in particular to be nurturing and motherly, and this trickles its way into all facets of life, even the workplace. I think that being nurturing or motherly is a beautiful thing, and it is absolutely necessary to have people in the world who are – but I’ve never been that way myself. There have been so many times in my life when I’ve let this expectation make me feel inadequate or broken, as not only a woman but a human. Professionally, I am sometimes made responsible for tasks which assume the ability to care or be responsible for the needs of others by virtue of being a woman/feminine – and I do not do well at them. I am often spoken to in a way that suggests that I have an emotional connection/motherly attitude towards the projects I work on. It can be frustrating and also disorienting to be spoken to in this way because it isn’t reflective of who I am. Being motherly is often talked about like it is the most natural thing in the world for a woman to be. I’m sure to a lot of us it is. Some misguided people believe it to be the sole duty of a woman to be motherly. I am not. The notion of this is revolting. I do not meet this expectation, and it is sometimes unnerving to others. I do care for people quite a lot, I am kind and I am always willing to help if I am capable, but there are very few things as repulsive to me as the idea of being made responsible for caring for someone or being expected to have the capacity to do so. I am simply not capable of it, I’m not interested in it, and do not wish to be. Some people may consider this as selfish, but I will always prioritize caring for myself and meeting my personal goals before allocating energy to others. I feel that being made responsible for caring/nurturing others (children, family, coworkers, and so on) is a threat to the things I want to achieve in life and the timeline for which I hope to achieve them. I currently value (and have always valued) these goals more than anything/anyone else and have been chasing them my whole life – that is the most natural thing to me.
So what do I consider to be feminine traits? Or, rather, my feminine traits? I’m not too sure. What I do know is that I feel strength in my femininity when addressing a room full of people. I feel feminine when I am inquisitive and when I ask questions. I feel feminine when determining the equations of motion of a mechanical system. I feel feminine when I make difficult decisions and when I act as a leader. I feel feminine when I make eye contact. I feel feminine when I make a clever joke or say something witty. I am not very tall – but feeling my most feminine self makes me feel tall. I am most feminine when I am dignified, when I am honest and when I am brave. I am most feminine when I hold people accountable, particularly when I am cavalier enough to tell somebody to “fuck off” when they are deserving of it; but being feminine is also being reserved when it is simply not the right time. I am most feminine when I trust but verify. My version of feminine is independent and resourceful – but also kind. It is many, many things – sometimes it is pink and frilly but other times it is bloody and graceless.
I can be feminine without being nurturing or motherly. I can subvert the expectations of others and still be feminine. I can shave my head and be feminine (which I did). Truly – I can be anything I want. My femininity is cinnamon. It is calculated, it abrasive, it is complex, it is volatile, it is striking, it is sharp, it is intense, it is versatile, it is unsuspecting, it is acute, it is unique. I eased into comfort with femininity once I learned of the many representations it has throughout society, which also allowed me to make room for my own without feeling I had to be certain type of way to meet the expectations of others. My relationship with femininity has been a progression from discomfort to full assertion, just like the song. I used to be conscious of avoiding my femininity due to the things I associated with it – just like the spice. I suppose the most practical byproduct of growing in this way is that I am inclined to make room for all of the other people I associate with, particularly women, and encourage them to define their own sense of femininity and be comfortable in it as well. I felt very lonely in my femininity when I didn’t feel like I met the expectations of what was considered feminine (ie. nurturing, motherly), but as said by Hayley Williams, I wasn’t lonely in this – I just had to find freedom from those expectations. I am far beyond entertaining the thought that anybody ought to relinquish their femininity in order to be accepted into a group; or alternatively, be forced into a particular interpretation of feminine in order to not unnerve others. Universally, to be feminine is to be genuine. For me – to be feminine is to be cinnamon.
(January 19th, 2022)
astronomine 