The Cast of a Woman

by nick sirianno

The way they throw a ball, run, do things the boys do, they have an unexpectedly captivating way on the man.  There is this inherent divide between the masculine movements of men and the feminine touch of a woman.  We’ve grown up with the boys, fighting, racing, and always trying to out do one another by example. But when the girl joins the pack, no matter how much better, faster, stronger, and more confident she is, there is always that quirk in the way she beats us at our own games. What is it about how she moves her arms when throwing a football, the way she lifts her knees when she runs, how her elbows instinctively protect her womb as she wrestles out of our grasps during capture the flag?  What is so noticeably different in the way she moves that has over the years coined a phrase “…like a girl?”  There’s an art to it.  She steadies, acts, and pursues her movements with a poise—awkward at first but beautiful too. A focus that sounds from deep within hidden by the veil of her smile, the quirk in corner of her dimples, the freckles in the squint of her eyes, the unwarranted flash or her hair, and the shape of her body, so different than ours.   The look she gives you after a perfect execution as to say “how did I do?”  So genuine, so conniving.   The way she casts a fly-rod, perfect, present. And how now, none of it matters for it is us on the end of her line.

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