Tomboy Days

Growing up as a rough and tumble tomboy was quite an adventure. I had two older brothers who were always up for some mischief. We would climb trees, ride bikes, play with dirt and catch frogs. I loved to catch wiggly tadpoles and bring them home to show them off. My mom would cringe, and my dad would grin quietly. I didn’t care about dolls, dresses or ribbons. I just wanted to have fun and be one of the boys. My grandmother used to send me the prettiest little homemade dresses that I would destroy in one week. My mom made sure she would get a picture right away, before it was too late.

When I turned 15, we moved from Daytona Beach, Florida to Redondo Beach, California. It was a big change for me and my family. These two beach cities were like night and day. In Florida I fit right in because almost all of the girls were just like me. We wore shorts and bathing suits in the hot humid weather. Make-up rolled off your face like oil off of water. It just wasn’t practical. Fashion was a new pair of flip-flops and matching shorts and shirts covered with flowers.

In surf city (Redondo) makeup was worn, even to the beach. My flowery shorts were replaced with skirts, dresses and sandals. My hair was bleached by the sun (with a little help from the drug store), and I discovered waterproof mascara. I wanted to learn how to be a proper girl that fit in with the crowd. To act ladylike, polite and demure. I could make the outward changes, but deep down I was still that little tomboy catching frogs. So, I needed help, but my mother was going through some problems of her own so she couldn’t be there for me. I was pretty much on my own. Being the “new girl”, I had no friends and didn’t fit in. I wanted nothing more than for the boys to notice me, but they would tease me, making fun of my boyish ways and southern drawl. It was a hard transition, let me tell you, but it was a task worth doing.

I eventually made some friends and found my niche, but I never did quite fit in with the chic California crowd. I am thankful for the help and influence of the friends I did make. A few of them were a bit like me, little girls learning to become women. Some of them had already found their way to womanhood. They all helped me along with makeup tips, style advice and most of all support and friendship. My friends got me through the difficult growing up years. They lifted me up through laughter, tears and heartache. This made me what I am today.

I didn’t give up all of my boyish ways. I still love camping in the lush green forest roasting marshmallows by the campfire. You might even see me throwing my fishing line into a soft flowing stream of clear fresh water. I also like going to the shooting range, where I practice my sharpshooter skills my dad taught me. My attire usually consists of jeans and tee-shirts, but I clean up pretty good when the occasion calls for it. I guess that’s who I am: a saucy little bit of everything.

Growing up as a tomboy with two older brothers was not easy, but it was a kick. I learned how to be tough, adventurous, and independent. I also learned how to appreciate my femininity and my uniqueness. There are no regrets for the choices I made, the clothes I wore, or the games I played. I’m proud of who I am and who I’ve become.