to the girls ready to be sickeningly feminine - a rulebook #5

S2E8: because we're all searching for that side of us.

It’s been far too long since I’ve penned any words on this beautiful series that stays on my mind more than cookies + cream ice cream, staycations, life before the technology takeover, wine, new characters, and silence.

While I feel like I’ve neglected it a bit, I also feel as though the words weren’t ready to be written. As if they were still developing, still maturing, still unraveling. I didn’t want to rush this piece. I never want to rush these pieces. So instead of adding more to the series for the sake of submitting another article, I waited. It was a long wait, but seemingly worthy.

Now— let’s begin.

I watched my child run through her skincare routine step by step, as if she were a professional esthetician who understands the complexities of skin. With a shake of my head as she stood in front of me, showing her flawless results, with her hair pushed off her face and her skin beaming, I thought…

They are hardly made, but they are ALWAYS born this way. Sickeningly feminine. Obsessed with the softest parts. Highlighting the very things that make them women.

I marvel at the moments when she looks to me and says, “I want to be just like you when I grow up.”

I’m always taken aback, no matter how many times it rolls from her lips. And, I’m always led to ask why.

“Because you write and your nails are pretty and you smell good and you have businesses and your hair is pretty and your clothes are pretty and you have a lot of makeup and because you like perfume and because you have pretty shoes and—”

Each time, it’s a variation of whys, but they all fit in the same category. Almost. My child isn’t telling me she wants the life I have.

She’s telling me she wants my softness. She wants my stillness. She wants my slowness. She wants my femininity. She wants all the prettiest parts of me.

“I want to be a woman, too, one day. A feminine woman. A confident woman. A pretty woman.”

Because I understand she is one of the girls ready to be sickeningly feminine, I have to finish this series. Because one day, she’s going to wonder, and I’m going to have the perfect read for her.

I can’t wait until she’s an adult and I can direct her to this series.

“I think it’s time you understood the philosophy of the sickeningly feminine woman. Here are the rules…”

The sickeningly feminine woman…

understands that skincare is a ritual, not a routine.

My skincare routine this…

My skincare routine that…

The thought of those words often rubs the feminine woman unpleasantly, because she understands that skincare is far more than a routine. It is a ritual.

It’s sacred. It’s altering. It’s life-changing. It’s coaxing. It’s calming. It’s confidence in the form of washes, toners, scrubs, serums, and moisturizers. It’s therapy in a bottle. It’s a nightly vacation to some other place. Some faraway place. Some safe place.

How do they know?

Because they can’t name a time they’ve felt the same before starting their skincare ritual. That cry that had been waiting to emerge all week comes in the shower, the closet, or at their bathroom counter as they massage serum into their cheeks. That solution they’ve been waiting for comes to mind as they watch their reflection in the mirror. The lyrics to that song they forgot existed, yet bring them so much peace, replay in their head as they slather moisturizer on their freshly cleaned skin.

The overwhelming feeling finally settles.

The quiet finally comes.

The pain finally becomes manageable.

The feelings finally subside.

The anger finally diminishes.

The resolutions finally come.

In the first article of this series, I said—

When it comes to femininity, almost nothing is a routine. It’s a ritual. Rituals are those things that relieve you of the mental stress life tends to carry. Rituals lighten your load–mentally, physically, and emotionally. Rituals feel good, and they make you feel good. Rituals calm your soul and hum to your heart. Rituals cater to the ideal of ease and simplicity. Rituals are nurturing.

Soul-stirring.

Quieting.

Slow.

Savory.

Still.

Memorable.

Peaceful.

Followed not forced.

That still stands.

Skincare is less about the skin it’s perfecting and more about the person it’s improving. Because, here’s a secret…

The sickeningly feminine woman understands that no esthetician or skincare routine can undo what is being done on the inside of their body. They know that their face is only a display of what’s happening within.

The feminine woman is aware that hormonal changes, emotional hardships, health signals, and mental stress will show up right on their nose, chin, neck, forehead, and cheeks.

So, the selfish act of creating a ten-step skincare ritual is one of many secrets in the sickeningly feminine woman’s arsenal.

The Art of Caring for Self is a subject that feminine women are fluent in. Skincare rituals align with their practices and promote the progression of their studies. It is another way and another reason for the sickeningly feminine woman to take care of herself.

And, frankly, she will take every reason.

The relief that comes with massaging the skin on her face is enough to settle the voices in her head, relieve the stress of the day, relax her mind, still her world, collect herself, regain control, and reset.

Rituals are undefeated in the life of an ultra-feminine woman. They aren’t part of the program. They are the program.

They afford her:

Predictability

Stability

Accountability

Introspection

Redirection

Honesty

Ease

Readiness

So, no. It’s not a routine for her. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. It’s a ritual. A declaration. A promise. A pledge. A petition. A will. A right. A requirement.

follows the 2/3 rule —religiously

The sickeningly feminine woman is put together even when she isn’t. That’s a rule. That’s one of the most important rules of the rulebook. There are no exceptions to this rule. None.

Sick.

Sorry.

Sad.

It doesn’t matter. Because they’re wired this way. As a writer, it’s in my nature to write something. Always. No matter what’s happening to me or around me. You can always find me writing. The same goes for the sickeningly feminine woman.

She’s always put together.

In labor—

At the funeral—

At the hospital—

At the football game—

At pickup after school—

At the gym—

At work—

At home—

At pilates—

It doesn’t matter where. It doesn’t matter why. It doesn’t matter how. The 2/3 rule remains in effect at all times.

Hair.

Nails.

Clothes.

The undeniable trinity.

• Clothes and hair are perfect, but need a manicure.

• Nails and clothes are great, but hair in a ponytail.

• Hair and nails are intact, but leggings are it for the day.

The feminine woman understands that she can fall apart, but her fragments will not appear to the naked eye. Again, this is not a performance or attempt to appeal to the public. It is a way of life.

A singer will sing whether someone’s listening or not. It’s all the same for the ultra-feminine woman. She is the same whether in the privacy of her home or the boundless public.

She will exemplify near-perfection in two areas of her physical appearance, always, because she understands perfection doesn’t exist. She’s also a woman who knows her capacity. She’s no fan of pressure. And, sometimes, that’s what conquering the holy trinity requires.

Exhaustion.

Overwhelm.

Overstimulation.

is (usually) physically fit.

This doesn’t always apply to the feminine woman.

However, the sickeningly feminine woman is a woman of discipline. Her discipline doesn’t end with doom scrolling, the 2/3 rule, or personal boundaries. She is aware that she is more of a threat to her health and well-being than anyone around her.

Near or far.

She is committed. Even if she’s not in the gym daily, she’s counting steps. Even if she’s not eating the healthiest, she’s aware of her proportions. Even if she’s not exercising, she’s planning her meals. Even if she’s not on the treadmill, she’s taking a walk around the neighborhood every day.

Fitness isn’t a goal of hers. It’s a lifestyle. She isn’t trying to make room for healthier habits; she adapts them and never lets them go.

And, if I’m being honest, I’m often in awe of her drive when it comes to this very rule. I’m smitten by her urgency to feel better, look better, be better all in one breath.

There are no excuses for her. There are only improvements. There are days off. Because, again, this is not a lifestyle change… It’s a lifestyle. She’s not afraid she won’t get back on track, because she is the track.

She has an aesthetic that she is pursuing every day. It’s not one she saw on television or online. It’s personal. She created it. And, she refuses to stray. Her internal disciplinary counsel won’t allow it.

studies the art of illusion.

The feminine woman wears disguises well. She understands they are for enhancement purposes only while simultaneously acknowledging that she’s just as beautiful without them. She studies film and techniques and products as if they are part of her life’s syllabus.

In fact, they are.

Makeup. The ultimate illusion.

Most ultra-feminine women wear it often. Some on occasion. But ALL have devoted their time to the life-long, ever-changing artistry. The sickeningly feminine woman knows what contour perfectly sculpts her face. She knows what concealer gives her the cheeky eyes. Or, how to apply eyeliner under the lid to highlight those curious orbs.

She’s a sucker for a soft glam, but she’s not afraid of a sickeningly smoky eye. She’s not afraid to ask a fellow feminine woman where her blush is from or what highlight is responsible for their glowing cheeks.

She keeps blotting tools in her purse because she understands that dewy makeup doesn’t always look good under certain light. The powder room is her best friend and probably where she meets her next best friend. Their friendship will only last a few minutes, or the time they’re in the restroom together, but it will be impactful. It will be meaningful. And it will leave them both with something to hold onto.

She’s no amateur with a makeup brush. She’s a modern-day Basquiat.

Number five has come to an end. If you’re still here, thank you. I’m gearing up for episode six. Until next time… xoxo.