Am I a Woman Yet?

Inspired by the post “Am I a Man Yet?” over at the Good Men Project, Jezebel’s Anna North yesterday posed this question: Becoming A Woman: When Does That Happen Anyway? She writes: 

First period? Yeah, right — my mom was still packing my lunch. Losing my virginity? This one did make me feel different, but not necessarily more mature. And I’m not sure I like the idea of marking anyone’s entry into womanhood by the entry of a penis. Living alone for the first time? That did force me to grow up a lot, but now I have a roommate again — does that mean I’m back to girlhood?

North’s intriguing post got me to thinking, Am I a woman yet? Sure, I’m 29 with good credit, but I still go gaga over all things Hello Kitty and I just love that Justin Bieber. I’m mature enough to know that it’s okay to leave the house without makeup despite what magazines tell us; but things like my weight leave me feeling as insecure as a 13-year-old plagued with acne and a flat chest.   


I often call Louisville the hometown of my heart and I tell folks that Birmingham may be where I grew up, but Louisville is where I became a woman. Or at least I think I did. In Louisville I found my voice as a writer and I found my husband. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t think  either a career or a marriage equals true womanhood, but I think I deserve some points for successfully balancing both. Also, marriage helps you rein in your selfishness  and teaches you the art of compromise — both of which obviously make you a more mature person.  


But to be honest, many days I feel like a big kid who wants to skip everywhere she goes and eat ice cream before dinner. I’m impossibly restless with a short attention span. Therefore, as soon as I settle in a place, I’m ready to move again. 


Lately, I’ve been focusing on spiritual maturity because I can tell you without a doubt that in that realm I’m about 12 years old. I have faith that as I grow closer to God and begin to do the things I was created to do, the insecurity and disquietude that haunt me will melt away. And perhaps then I will finally feel like a woman. But I’m still not giving up my Hello Kitty.