“Your hands are so cute and little! I wish mine were like that. I have big old hands.”
I can’t count how many female friends and acquaintences have told me this over the years. What’s interesting is that having cute little small delicate hands is in my opinion closer to a problem than something to be prized.
- Things meant to fit in your grip (soda cans, drinking glasses, etc.) require more stretching and caution for me than for larger-handed people, or else I drop them because it’s certainly not my grip they’re intended to fit.
- It limits my handspan in piano playing.
- I wanted to learn to play the bass, but that was right out since my finger reach made it impossible for me to apply any pressure to the strings once I’d managed to stretch my cute little delicate hands around the guitar neck.
- Don’t get me started on what a handicap it is for working clay.
- I’m pathetic at farm work – yes, I know from experience – because a lot of the tools and tasks require or greatly benefit from a better and bigger grip than I have.
- It limits how many things I can carry, and sometimes forces me to make two trips.
None of these things are what I’d call “real problems” in the grand scope of things – no single human body is perfect for every activity, after all, and fortunately my living doesn’t rely on any of these tasks (in which case it would be a “real problem”). My point is that my hands are less functional than larger hands, and yet I’m apparently to be congratulated on this lack of functionality. Because it’s feminine to have tiny hands.
Or is it feminine to be underequipped for functionality? Is that where the appearance preference is really coming from?