We like things to be in their proper places and we like to define those places we put things. But what happens when humanity starts to compartmentalize people, places, and things that cannot be? What happens when we define things through our tainted views?

Stereotype = to give a fixed form to.

Humanity likes to stereotype. Humanity likes to categorize. And perhaps, although with good intentions, this could do more harm than good.

I (thank God) am a woman. I grew up as a little girl. Now, what do we all think of when we think of little girls? Pink shoes and dresses and baby dolls and ribbons and bows? My mother had to force me to wear dresses. I did not like the color pink. Ribbons and bows only got in the way. But I did like to explore. I loved to make up adventures. I rode my bike down dirt mountains and I thought it was fun. My favortie outfit in the third grade was a green silk shirt with a purple tie.

What does humanity do with a girl who doesn't "fit" into.......... into what? What girls are supposed to be? Well, what is that? I might have run around in fields looking under rocks and trees, I might have worn a purple tie in the third grade too. But I also dreamed of love. I also had a crush on the boy who sat next to me in science class. I also desperately asked the question that all girls ask: "Am I beautiful? Am I lovely?"

Perhaps, in our efforts do define the world we live in, in a way we can understand, we have used the wrong attributes to make our rationale.

Where perhaps most kids grow up and move on past the bullies on the buss or the jokes or the comments, I for some reason still hold those childhood wounds deep within me.

Being a young girl growing up, I learned to believe that I wasn't what I was supposed to be. And to this day I am burdened by expectations too outrageous to live up to.

Perhaps it's time to lay to death the Autumn who was made fun of and laughed at and....just not what she ought to be. Maybe it is time to learn who I am today, and beyond that, love who I am.

And who do I look to, to teach me these things? The humanity that taught me how "not right" I was?  Or the God who created me to be just as I am, and how I have always been? The God who created "woman" and called her good. The God who created me as a woman, and calls me good.

At 25 years old, I would still go ride my bike down a dirt mountain. I still love to go on adventures. I love to build things. I love to create. I love to wrestle around and be active. But I also love grace and gentleness. I love to feel beautiful and I still ask and wonder if I am. I love to paint my toes, I love to take care of the people I love. I love compassion. I love to empathize with people.  I love to extend comfort to people who are hurting. I love to sing. I love to be pursued. I love to be wanted. I love to be romanced. I love to fight for people and hold them up- help them walk their journey.

I am a woman. I love being a woman. I thank God for creating me so fearfully and wonderfully.  He calls me good.

Now, if He would just tell me how to  handle those boys............