I’m not a normal woman

The other day a friend and I were discussing yard work, planting flowers and crafts (and the fact that I do not like to do any of those things) and she brought up an old column I had written many years ago explaining exactly why I do not like doing those “womanly” things.     I pulled that old column up on my computer and re-read it.  It brought back all the memories of the years and years of torment I put myself through, in my younger years, trying to be someone that I wasn’t.  For years I thought something was wrong with me and I tried my hardest to try to be like “other women.”   There’s something to be said about that old adage “with age comes