Fridae

I was a teenage tomboy. I cut my hair short for the very first time when I was thirteen and that I believe was the start of the discovery of my unique sexuality. When I try to remember hard enough what I used to do to emulate a masculine image, I recall winking at girls as I circled them on my bicycle and sought for some kind of positive response. They usually giggled and smiled back and when they did, I felt that I had accomplished something a boy could have done.

At that age I didn't understand the meaning of lesbian, I didn't even know the word existed, I called myself a tomboy and that was me.

I studied in an all-girls elementary school and I had my own set of tomboy friends. We called ourselves the "T-Birds" --Sheryl, Mary Anne and myself. We weren't the sporty jocks in school and people thought we were freaks. We wore wristbands, big watches and boys shoes to school. We even tried out for the basketball team to earn a few cutie points with the girls. And even if we ended up playing bench the whole time, it didn't matter. We were in the hottest team in school and we felt macho. To call yourself a real tomboy, you had to be really good in sports.

I met another tomboy in school and her name was Noemi. She was always alone and didn't seem to want to mix with anyone. She once confided to me that she had a crush on her classmate Jenny but the girl was avoiding her and was totally grossed out. Noemi was very wealthy, her allowance was five times more than mine, she had a nanny and a driver. During washday, she wore the most expensive brands and during book sales, she bought loads and loads of books. But she didn't have any real friends. Sometimes to get attention, she gave out money to her classmates and sometimes she gave out expensive chocolates during recess period. I used to think she was really lucky to have all that money and it was cool that she could buy anything she wanted, but looking back at her just makes me feel sorry that she had to find herself the hard and painful way.

Like her, we were all misunderstood. It came to the point that even I misunderstood myself. At that time, I didn't understand what people saw was wrong with me. I felt belittled and underestimated. I did very badly in school and my grades were at the bottom of the barrel. I felt stupid and I believed I was friendless. It's surprising how small issues like giggling and staring can actually turn into full-blown fights when you're young. I was in seventh grade and I knew my classmates talked behind my back.

Height seemed to be an issue as well. I was one of the vertically challenged girls in class and I felt very small. The bigger tomboys in schools seemed to get more attention and positive feedback from the other girls, they were the real hot jocks.

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Every time there were sports activities, we all went out into the field for track or basketball. Everyone hooted and giggled after each tall tomboy was introduced. As for us little people, everyone just clapped politely -too politely. It was humiliating already that I sat in the bench the whole time and even more humiliating that I just had to be introduced. Sometimes I wished I were the water-boy.

I even remember how I used to wear my hair. Everything was short but I left a long tail of hair dangling from the base of my hairline. That was my security blanket at that time. I felt comfortable running my fingers through my long tail of hair whenever I felt confused, lonely or depressed. I couldn't believe it, at thirteen I felt like a mess already. I was a child and I thought my world was ending.

Everyone was reading Sweet Valley High and I was burying my nose into sci-fi books and Greek mythology. Lots of girls thought I was really a nutcase. There was no one to talk to, soon Sheryl left for a different school and Mary Anne disappeared into I don't know where.

Every time I read a book, I identified more with the male characters. I loved Harry Houdini and thought I wanted to be just like him. I read "The Count of Monte Cristo" and immediately fell in love with Dantes. I read that book over and over till I knew it by heart.

In school, the only people who really paid attention to me were the teachers and the guidance counsellors. I found friends there and they helped me get through my crisis.

Every morning, I went on the P.A. System to help by leading the schools' morning prayers or oath of allegiance. There, I found myself useful and needed. They liked my voice and my diction and that was one place I felt appreciated.

Whenever someone spilled a drink or barfed in the classroom, I was always the first one to go to the utility room to get a mop. The other girls were too prissy and wouldn't clean up after their own mess. I was the class' most unappreciated Girl-Friday. I did everything when the custodian was nowhere in sight. I mopped the room, cleaned the blackboard and changed the trash bags after lunch period. It was expected of me since I was the "boy" in the class. There were actually two of us in class but Marie, the other one was a "man", she was part of the tall tomboy click. They get to chase girls all the time and go out on dates to movies with their girlfriends. They even got to go to McDonalds when they jumped the fence during class period. They only thing about them was they always got to into trouble. They'd get caught cutting school, kissing their girlfriends in the washrooms, exchanging I.D.'s with girls and passing love notes around class. They were a rowdy bunch and sometimes I was glad I wasn't tall.

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It's so weird, we actually behaved like little boys. The bullies and the bullied. I was part of the latter. I never talked or fought back when I was being jeered at by the tall tomboys girlfriends, I didn't want my head to get slammed by their thug (tom)boyfriends. I took everything quietly and never said a word to my parents.

Still, a part of me yearned to be like them --tall, big and respected. I felt weak most of the time and sometimes it got the best of me. I spent time in the chapel because it was quiet. That was my sanctuary, it felt peaceful and there I'd talk to what I thought was god and ask him why I was so puny and small. No answers ever came so I guessed that even god listened to the tall tomboys first.

That same school year, my auntie Victoria sent me a leather jacket from Canada. I was so thrilled that I wore it to school the very next day. It came right on time, it was cold season and everyone had jackets and sweaters. As soon as I finished P.A. duty and walked into the classroom, all eyes stared at not me but at the pretty leather jacket which had some kind of ethnic tattoo print in the back. I felt cool and that day I was treated cool. See, all it took was a leather jacket but still I was smart enough to figure out that each one of them wanted to have it. Nope, I didn't give it away. Finally I had something they all wanted to have and I clung to it for dear life.

Aside from height and rowdy behaviour, possessions were power too. Tools that helped me feel confident about myself. I never wore the leather jacket everyday because people might tire of it and I'd be back where I started - a loser. I tried becoming a bit of a snob and that worked too.

My classmates started casual conversations with me and even if I knew nothing about teenage romance novels, it didn't matter anymore. Ah, attitude also mattered to these people. I had to be a little snotty to get some attention and I even stopped being the girl-Friday, I left that to anyone who wanted the title "pushover."

Still, I was not happy because I liked helping and doing things that restored order. Whenever the urge came over me to mop a spilled drink, I remembered what it was like to be a gopher and I despised it. That snobby part of me didn't last, when I turned 14 I transferred to a high school and started all over again. But I still did not know who or why I was the way I was.

I was a teenage tomboy, confused at my own behaviour. No one knew what was going on, or maybe they did but ignored it and thought I was just going through a phase.

Today when I look back at what I was, I see a lonely teenager who sought answers to many questions that were never properly addressed. I see someone who needed explanations to phenomena like attraction to persons of the same sex, the urge to be masculine and the need to look stronger than other girls. I see someone who was not given a chance to find out the meaning of the word "lesbian."

Fire is a twenty-something writer-entrepreneur who's also one of the founders of INDIGO Philippines. You can reach her thru firewomyn@iname.com