Curious

The other day I read a blog post inspired by the question “what you’d like to experience if you were the opposite gender for a day“. I read those words and immediately had an answer, or more of a non-answer.

There is nothing I specifically want to do as a man. I don’t want to be me, with my whole history, simply transformed into a male body for the day. I don’t find that idea intriguing to me at all. I’m sure if it happened, it would be interesting, but it just isn’t an idea that I find particularly fascinating.

However, I’d absolutely be interested in waking up one day as a man, who had whole history of being male, and spending that day just doing whatever that man’s regular routine was, wherever the path of being male had led me to, and then still carrying that memory of what it felt like to be a male me, back as regular female me again.

I am deeply interested in what it would be like to have lived a lifetime never having had anybody stare at my tits, or make comments about them. I’d like to know what it feels like to walk down a street when I’ve never had vans pull up beside me and ominously slide open the door. When I’d never heard people inside a car, shouting, wanting a fuck, and making it clear that my wanting or lack of wanting, was of no concern to them.

I’m totally intrigued by what it would be like to not carry around the suffocating weight of thousands of vague and not so vague reminders that more than half the population is physically stronger than me – that reminder that only vigilance and willingness to do battle gives me some hope of maintaining my personal space at more than their whim.

Because, I really don’t know. I don’t know who I would be if I wasn’t a woman. I don’t know if the constant suspicion and wariness I feel is just my inherent personality, or if it is because of all I have experienced as a female human. All of the looks, the words, the “compliments” I “should” feel “flattered” by, and all the cruel words spoken when I was “less” of a “woman” than I “should be“, that have made me loathe almost all references to my physical appearance.

Would I hit on a woman at a party, unaware that I was standing too close for her comfort, and be totally baffled and even indignant when she politely declined?

Would regular female me be more comfortable and confident in my own skin the next day, or would I carry the same fears along with a new heaping dose of resentment?

I am curious.

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  1. #1 by Rachel on January 29, 2011 - 12:29 PM

    >>>and then still carrying that memory of what it felt like to be a male me, back as regular female me again<<<

    This. I think it would help me understand the male perspective a little more. Maybe. lol

  2. #2 by Stacy on January 29, 2011 - 7:04 PM

    Amen.

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