Don’t Kill the Tomboy

Look. For the record, I do not care what your pronouns are. I care so little, I don’t want to know, and if you tell me, there is a likelihood I’ll still get them wrong not because I want to insult you (if I wanted to insult, you would know, I write insult jokes for a living), just because my brain in a complex web of consistently turning gears on a perpetual overload that honestly remembering a new persons name is something I have to work at unless you really make an impression on me. So, have at whatever pronouns you want, and know the rest of the world doesn’t give a shit, not because we’re against you, but because we’re all living in our own realities.

That being said… please don’t kill the tomboy.

A part of me believes if I were a kid today, there would be pressure for me not to be myself, which was(is?) a girl who mostly dressed in androgynous clothing with movie posters or band logos, and mostly played with the boys in the neighborhood in various sports, but instead be told that I identified as a boy. As it was, I was teased for being “not a girl.” I was the utmost definition of a tomboy. I still had girlfriends, but my best friends were (and still are) mostly guys. One time, a neighbor was teasing me, saying, “Lori’s a boy! Lori’s a boy!” And my brother came to my defense, grabbing him a headlock, “don’t call my sister a girl!” His sentiment was there, but even he got it wrong!

Because I was such a physical late bloomer (grew 4 inches in my 20s, didn’t have boobs till 23, got my period at 17), even my body was boyish or childish, as everyone else was going through puberty. It bothered me some, but I also knew I’d grow one day. Plus, I liked being a tomboy. It was me, well, just being me. And it bored me to sit around with the girls with fashion magazines and gossip. I liked climbing trees and catching waves. But I also liked being in between the boys and the girls. I was like a messenger. The girls would come to me for boy advice, and the boys came to me for girl advice. In a world of the battle of the sexes, I was common ground for knowledge. I was/am definitely a girl, but I understood the boys, often times, better than they understood themselves.

My group of friends, who I’m still close with to this day, always accepted me as I was—we never tried to change anyone in our misfit group. We all teased each other for various things, but it was in the name of fun, it wasn’t mean spirited. Of course I was teased for being boyish, but I embraced it. I’d take the joke and dish jokes right back. When I started doing stand-up, the teasing persisted. Comedy is a boys club with constant jabbing, but I felt rather comfortable in it because I have a sense of humor about all things, especially myself.

I hesitate to use the word “special” because I don’t know that I am or that I felt that way. Weird, unique, a little off… I’d say that would describe me more. Those were never insults to me. Being normal or part of the many was something that never interested me. The only thing worse than being boring was pretending to be boring so you could fit it. Yuck. Though one of the things I also liked about being a tomboy is the fact that when I wanted to, I could dress up like a girl and turn heads. Usually with the help of my mom and/or sister, if I wore “flattering clothing” (which my mom still wishes I wore more of), I could look really pretty. This surprised people who always knew me in jeans and a t-shirt. Friends throughout my life would see me at a fancier event and go, “holy shit, Lori’s a girl? This whole time!”

Yup. This whole time. Not only am I a girl, but I can be a hot one if I choose to be.

The older I get, the more I realize that a true tomboy is kind of a rare anomaly. And while I do always want people to be authentically themselves, I do have some concerns that nowadays there’s actually more pressure to be something you’re not than to just let kids flourish as they are. What would have become of me if the world told me I was born with the wrong genitals? I mean, if being a women means anything at all, it means hating your body at least a little bit (this is a joke, but also true, lol).

Today, I remain a tomboy. I am a foul mouthed surfer girl who loves to drink and loves watching (and writing) action movies. Live hockey or drinking beer on football Sundays are rituals I look forward to. I’d rather climb a mountain and jump off a waterfall than drink cosmos and ride a horse on a beach (I am terrified of horses). I am still a go to for girls with guy problems and guys with girl problems. I will always answer anything honestly, especially things involving sex because there is such a lack of communication STILL between men and women about bedroom stuff.

Like Kramer said about Elaine, “you’re a guys gal!” And for those who think women and men can’t be platonic friends? Well, I’d say that says a lot more about you than anything about me. No one has to be a certain way. Not everything needs it’s own goddamn label. Live your life truest to yourself. Don’t try to find people who are like you. Just find people who are good to you and you laugh with. Anyone who is too much like you might be a fraud, a mimicker. Life is too short to spend it with people who don’t make you feel like you did when you were a kid with your friends, just bicycling around the neighborhood. A good ol’ fashioned tomboy. A girl in boys clothing.