I don’t know about you, and I haven’t always felt safe and comfortable around other women.
I first became aware of it, I think, when I often felt like the odd one out at the all girls’ school I attended. I wasn’t one of the popular, pretty girls. I worked hard and I was good at exams. I usually came first or second in my class on my end of term report. Having red curly hair, and wearing glasses until my early teens, didn’t make it easy for me to blend in. I stood out, and I wasn’t comfortable about it.
Even before that, I related, more naturally, with my Dad. I felt safer with him in many ways, than with my Mum. She didn’t express her emotions very much, and I felt alone and out of my depth in handling my own sensitivity and feelings. It was easier for me to talk to my Dad, about logical things, and use my intellect, to reason and debate with him, rather than delve into the unpredictability (and, fear) of my inner world.