The thing about being a natural woman is that one takes it for granted until people start talking and singing about it, or until the biological problems start.
We don't know our gender when conceived, didn't begin to realise it until we were somewhere between 18 months and 3 years old. At that age, we get this awareness more from the way others respond to us than from any self-knowledge. In my case, I had no brothers, so I never saw a boy's hose and had no awareness of physical difference. Nor were there neighbours - it took decades before suburbs swallowed our family's home in the bush.
At 4 years, the dynamics within our family changed. I knew clearly that Mum, my sister and I were females and Dad was male. Things happened that should have landed him in prison for life, my mother in forced rehab for alcoholics and we two girls in the care of the state or adopted. But we lived too far away from things - so the rot continued.
From 5 years old at kindergarten, I began to have some idea of boys. They were rough, unruly and not much fun - except for one boy, Michael Cohen, a brainiac who could already count to 100 and do simple arithmetic. Today he's one of Australia's top skin specialists. But to me, back then, his maleness was more a peculiarity of language than reality. He was sweet, humourous, kind and gentle. He was a he, his, him - for no reason, it seemed, but custom. Michael was a boy's name - but why? No one could give me any reason other than tradition. I was starting to learn sexual stereotypes and norms before I could understand what lay behind them. Black and white television arrived in Australia about 10 years after it had become common in the States. Whenever Mum was on one of her binges, I watched copious Hollywood movies and became saturated with romantic and false ideas of what it meant to be a woman.
At 13, my periods came. That's when the knowledge of being a natural woman struck home hard. There is no way of escaping the consequences. One learns to adapt and cope one way or another.
Art Lover 