Releasing my Inner Dwarf
I love Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings trilogy. I loved it long before there were movies, long before hordes of fangirls and rubber elf ears and, most likely, the infliction of several injuries while trying to surf down staircases on various shield-analogues.

My first introduction to Tolkien's Middle-Earth was The Hobbit. It was an old hardcover book in my school's libarary, and I loved it. And then I listened to the old BBC radio drama, with the story of Frodo and his ring, and loved it even more; and when I finally read the books--I was about fifteen and even more idealistic than I am today--I was completely and utterly hooked.

The movies, thankfully, were reasonably accurate and well-made; and I enjoyed them thoroughly. One thing, however, puzzled and annoyed me. This was the existence--and proliferation--of Legolas fangirls.

Looking back on it, I should have expected that young girls just discovering the opposite gender might have been captured by the actor's physical good looks and his general "coolness".

But, much as I like Legolas--which is about as much as I like any of the other characters--I have always been a Gimli fan, and a fan of dwarves in general.

In the movies, Gimli generally gets treated like a sidekick and given the job of "comic relief"; but the truth is, he's just as valuable a member of the Fellowship as any of its members (except Aragorn and Frodo, without whom nothing could have been done). We're very silly about looks in the movies; if someone isn't good-looking, they are either a villain or a sidekick; and the exceptions to that rule are few.

I am very like a Dwarf myself--short, at exactly 5 feet tall; round, durable, and direct. You can see from my picture that I have no hint of facial hair, as female dwarves reportedly do; but if you were to refuse to judge by appearances (something which, in the modern world, not many do), you would easily see the resemblance between myself and a Dwarf.

I suppose, then, that this will be my introduction; for in comparing myself to a Dwarf, I mention many of my main personality traits.

Dwarves love, above all, the making of beautiful things. This is something I have always enjoyed. Whether it's quilting, crochet, or simply making a room or a yard neat, simple, and beautiful, there is an elemental satisfaction in having created something with your own hands. I'm not one for frills; simplicity has its own beauty, and is much more functional. If I make something, I want to be sure that it will stand up to hard use, and will serve its purpose. A quilt I made in high school is still on my bed today, as warm as it ever was. Certainly creating useful and beautiful things out of cloth and yarn rather than metal is more feminine than one would expect of a Dwarf; but then, that may just be due to my lack of a beard.

Dwarves have very little use for courtly manners. They are a people who speak plainly and do not hide their intentions; they are people of action and not long speech. If a Dwarf does not like you, he will say so. If he considers himself your friend, he will die for you. There is no duplicity, no wearing of masks, and no unearned respect. Many think them blunt and rude; but they are not--they are simply Dwarves. I am like that, too: Simple and straightforward. The intricacies of others' social interactions simply do not interest me; and I imagine some people don't like me because I do not gild my words or tell "little white lies". But there's a good part to it, too: If you know me, you know where you stand with me; and if you are my friend, I am willing to do anything necessary to help you.

There is a tendency to characterize Dwarves as uncivilized; but that is not true. They may dress simply; but their clothes are durable. They may seem to have little regard for personal appearance; but for a people who work hard and fight even harder, what does it matter if you have less classical beauty than an Elf, when you can put in a twelve-hour day in the mines, take the heads from a few orcs' shoulders, and still drink a mug of ale with your comrades at night?

Like a Dwarf, I have very little regard for physical appearance. I keep myself clean and my clothing in good repair; but I do not see the point of make-up, fine (and uncomfortable) clothing, or tight shoes. My "uniform", a T-shirt, denim jacket, canvas tennis shoes, and khakis (in the pocket of which I always carry my knife--it's not an axe, but it will do), is made for comfort and composed of mostly garage-sale finds (why spend money on clothing, when one can get the same things for very little?). And as for make-up... Well, you can see that I'm wearing none in my picture; that's the way I look every day, and I would much rather be comfortable than spread gunk across my skin in an attempt to look like some anorexic cover girl. I don't remember the last time I wore any.

I am stubborn and persistent. Those can be positive or negative traits, depending on the situation; but when you are trying to change the world, as I am (or at least, trying to change my little corner of it), they are necessary traits.

Like many dwarves, I am a warrior. I have never been in serious, to-the-death physical combat; but I have never backed down from a confrontation--not when I was a nine-year-old facing the wrath of an abusive stepfather, nor as a fourteen-year-old with a second stepfather trying to intimidate me into keeping his secrets. I am quite as durable as any dwarf when it comes to sheer survival.

The very strange thing is that, today, I myself am the enemy I must fight. Major depression is just six months in remission; and I have, in addition to the positive traits that Asperger Syndrome and ADHD bring me, many obstacles to overcome in the arenas of organization, social skills, and sensory integration.

When I fight against myself, I understand all too well that we are very equally matched. And while I am very stubborn, so are the problems I am trying to overcome. If I were an Elf, I might have left for Valinor a long time ago; but I am not an Elf.

I am a Dwarf, and I am proud of it.