Every man’s fantasy, yes? I can most certainly see how it appeals, at first glance. There she is, a perfectly shaped little treat, not struggling, with a wry look in her eyes as she gazes with knowing power over the man who sits beside her. Submissives have all the power in Dominant/submissive relationships, after all, but this post isn’t about the dynamic present in the scene.
What struck me most is the comparison between he and she. Where her hair is nicely groomed, smooth and shiny, his is unkempt, swept up like he’s just awoken. Her skin is silky, his is rough, his face unshaven. She’s dressed with some effort and consideration, even wearing shoes in bed, while he is bulging out of his pants with his crack showing, not putting any thought into how he is presented. She is tiny in comparison to his hulking girth.
What is society’s obsession with women being so small they’re almost invisible? We know they want us to be invisible, and silent, and I see this obsession with tiny women as nothing less than an act of trying to erase us. To shrink us, make us less intimidating.
Because women are scary strong and they know it.
The world wants us to be dainty, small, speak lightly, step through society with little feet that barely touch the ground for the spiked heels below them. They want us to restrain our waists into shapes that only pre-pubescent girls have. They want us to be hairless, shiny, perfect little toys. And silent. So silent.
When I was young I was tall with muscles, a tomboy, wild and untamed. I rode horses bareback, my hair streaming behind me, skin dark from the sun, dust on the soles of my naked feet. I loved my feet, how rough they were, how I could take a step without wincing or having to think about where I put my foot. I took the world in stride when alone on the ranches. I was strong and resilient, independent. And wholly unappealing to the majority of MANkind. As I wanted to be.
My best friend was petite as fuck, in an unhealthy way, and my father and grandfather’s eyes followed her about the room as she moved waif-like. I watched them and saw myself in their eyes, how “less” I was because I was more. They both found her absolutely gorgeous, like a ballerina, small and perfect. They never praised me once for my appearance, but talked about my friend in front of me. I began to wish I were delicate and small and found waif-like beauty so appealing that I grew distraught at times knowing I’d never be so. Knowing they’d never think that of me.
I tried to shrink as they wanted, and got ill, didn’t have the energy to ride anymore. I needed so badly to be the small beautiful delicate thing they seemed to worship.
It didn’t last long, and soon I was back to my untamed ways because it wasn’t worth it. It wasn’t worth trying to shrink myself until I was invisible so that I would be acceptable to the patriarchs in my life. I threw my leg back over my horse’s back and rode off, spitting in the dust and singing my defiance to the Texas skies.
As a grown woman who loves women I am drawn to those who have curves and thighs and butts that are strong and real and very present. Women who elbow their way into the world without worrying about who is watching. Occasionally I’ll notice the sinewy grace of a delicate little thing as I run my errands at the grocery stores, but to me a woman who takes up space and doesn’t apologize for existing will always capture my attention. I admire them, I want to be them, I want to make them know without a doubt how profoundly beautiful they are.
And like them I refuse to diminish until I disappear.
Fuck society trying to reinforce that women should be constantly shrinking themselves so small they’re practically invisible.
Fuck them who want us to be weak.
Fuck anyone who thinks we should take up less space.
Ladies, take it. Take it all, swallow the world until you are swollen with it, stop apologizing for existing in everything that you are, stop feeling less for the fullness of you.
It doesn’t matter how small we are. It will never feel small enough until we stop agreeing to this unwritten contract that insists that we be diminished and less intimidating to society.
Stop letting their fear of our power make us mute ourselves until we’re more palatable. Be big in any and all ways you desire, be it stature or voice or spirit.
This is the only life you have, let yourself be decadent and untamed.
Don’t spend any of it letting them tell you that you must be LESS to be more.
A Burd in Flight 