Some things start out with Womanhood. God stitches Womenhood into their souls with her bevy of infinitely small needle fingers. This is a lie God tells on purpose, to cause problems.
Some things wrestle Womanhood from the ether with guile and artifice, by imbibing The Potion. Gender Wizards craft The Potion by catching Womanhood in their arcane snares, and collecting it in their cauldron, where they smash Womanhood into a watery white ichor. By consuming or injecting The Potion, or slathering The Potion upon themselves, some things gradually transmute their meat-bodies into Womanhood. This process is known as agony. It is always worth it. The Potion tastes like memories from the perspective of an estranged friend and brimstone.
Some things, regardless of whether or not they are Womanhood, do Womanhood by participating in The Dark Rites. No one knows what these rituals are, or how to correctly perform them, but they are slightly to the left of Womanhood, and thus, everything in the Womansphere must do The Dark Rites. Some notable practitioners of The Dark Rites include: everyone, The Devil, and You.
Some things are not Womanhood, and they aren't Nonwomanhood. Some things are a collage of arthropods that burrow into Womanhood and fit their millions of chitinous forcipules into the meat and skin and bone and thew and thought and dream and guilt and yearning and yearning and yearning of Womanhood, and puppet it about like the meat-body God so cruelly and justly kept from them. This is holiness. Molting is holiness. Pupating is divinity. Taking discarded remnants of self and fashioning them into a new shell is an act of God. Some things pilot their "meat-bodies" to be with others that are "Womanhood". They infest your picnics and your bonfires and your tea parties and it doesn’t matter because no thing is Womanhood. If the arthropods eat their way through the flesh of Womanhood and find a new shell, they were then still just as Womanhood as the thing that drank The Potion or performed The Dark Rites. Many things "are" Womanhood, and while they "are" all are welcome in the hive. Swarming is holiness.