No, no and, er, thrice no!
I don’t “do” men.
Like, I think i mentioned before how obvious it is now that i am uncomfortable trying to socialise in “blokey” environments. All the thigh-slapping, roister-doister, pub-closing-time, sporty, hale-fellow-well-met, type conversations that your “typical” bloke does to maintain lines of communication. Bit like blackadder:
Sure, i know that not all guys are like this. Men have been known to discuss cooking, art, and – shock! horror! – musicals, too. i’m talking stereotype, but maybe there is something just that bit deeper as well.
It carries through to work environments: something about the sales-y, go-get-it, brutish way that a great deal of business is conducted that doesn’t quite work for me.
And i absolutely, positively don’t do men sexually. Not that i have anything against the concept. Just that it isn’t me.
Still, i get asked interesting questions. The most interesting are the ruder ones and the ones i can’t yet answer. i’ve mentioned the fascination some seem to have for my future, um, growth. “What size?” has been asked on a dozen different occasions now.
And i get asked about orientation. Once the process is more advanced, will i fancy men. Nope. Not from here i won’t.
The only slight question mark is around how i seem to be with people. so many have commented that i am more confident, happy in myself. It happened at the weekend, when i went ‘oop north’ to review an arts show. Except the comment didn’t end there.
I was, my friend observed “happy, confident, flirty…”
Huh? Where did that come from? Is that me? Is that how i am now perceived? Is that something else: maybe that somewhere i have a residual idea of how i am supposed to relate to men whether i want to or not.
i wouldn’t mention it except it is now the second time in a week that has happened. perhaps i need to chat to some in the feminist sisterhood: perhaps my internalised idea of womanhood still lives somewhere in the 1950’s – and i need to come forward half a century or so.