After that brave admission, "James" thoughtfully told us that he had only recently figured out that he really wasn't all that outdoorsy....meaning, he'd rather stroll a street than hike in the woods with a backpack, that a good bed was nicer than a sleeping bag on the ground. This was BIG for a Montana boy to admit because one of the things we are indoctrinated with growing up in our beautiful state is that everyone must be outdoorsy. There are varying degrees of outdoorsy-ness, from casual weekend campers to obsessive downhill skiers who would sell their kid brother for a season pass. But we're all expected to be outdoorsy in some way. (Not that "James" doesn't like doing things outdoors; he just isn't a hunter/fisher/hiker/whatever.)
Mine is similar to "James" in that I don't like hunting. I used to hunt and thought I enjoyed it, when really it was mostly spending time with the people I was hunting with, and hiking. I don't have a problem shooting an animal for meat or cleaning it or wrapping it. It's okay. I liked the end product; when I was single, it was the only reason I had meat to cook oftentimes. But if someone asked me for my top 20 things I like to do, hunting wouldn't be on that list. I'm not sure I'd even put it on a top 50 list. I hunted because my boyfriend at the time hunted. And because women in Garfield County gain a certain popular status by hunting. It's cool to be all liberated like that, doing man things with the men. I wanted approval. I wanted to be one of those cool women.
But I really just don't need that validation anymore, you know? I'm forty-something and I don't really care that I'm not cool ESPECIALLY if being cool means that I have to wear pink camo. *shudder*
I don't think any of us really realized that we were pretending. I think it was probably just more of a functional thing, trying to get by without making waves, fake it til you make it and all. But the glorious freedom of owning our choices and lives without justification....that was worth all the junk we went through to get here. (And believe me, all three of us have been through some righteous junk in our lives.)
*Names have been changed to protect the super-secret identities of my friends. Not that they're in the witness protection program or anything, it just seems the courteous thing to do.
1 comment:
I realized after meeting my husband that I didn't actually like hunting. We went to my parents and I wanted to fill my deer tag. It was horribly horribly awkward going hunting with him. What I liked about hunting was one on one time with my father. I have rode along with my husband once later on when he was hunting and it was okay, I suppose.
I really should have known earlier that it wasn't actually hunting. I felt guilt over killing something. I like the meat, I have no problem cooking it, I still feel sad causing pain or death. I also say prayers for roadkill that they didn't suffer. I am coming to terms that I am not really a good example of a Montanan woman. I don't even like fishing!
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