Wednesday, 23 February 2011

Inside I'm Screaming!

The boy version of me is not particularly either camp or even that femme.  If you look closely you may spot the odd thing - and, upon hearing, some of the people I have told have not been surprised.  But that's mainly after retro-fitting the evidence.  They wouldn't have naturally arrived at that point of realisation.  So what's my point?

This is probably just me, but as a wannabe girl being viewed by the world as a boy, I feel so excluded by women.  In reality, I completely understand why.  Apart from the fact that I am mostly dressed as a man and in fact am really a man.  Bypass that in a million years they would never think I would be interested in being included anyway.  Ignore that on the surface I feign disinterest.  Its a pretty compelling picture.  But inside I'm screaming.

Recently I had a conversation about cars.  I can pretend with the best of them to know things about cars.  I try not to reveal the fact that I only really notice the colour of the car and how many doors it has!  As an aside, I have perfected the ability to talk, albeit shallowly, about football as well.  But anyway, to the point. In this conversation I was told, "you're a man, so you should know about cars."  I felt really glum for the rest of the day.  Why can't people realise that I'm not a boy really, I'm a girl.  And its not that girls shouldn't know about cars, some do.  Clearly.  Its that I'm stereotyped in a stereotype that I don't want.  It made me scream inside and to want to escape.

Then just yesterday, a facebook status arrived about a woman who's perfected a new method of attaching false nails in a way that doesn't cause as much damage to your existing nails.  In the status she said, 'girlies, you'll know what I mean'.  This blog is making me realise that I am far too sensitive to these things.  But I realised again that my real reply of 'not just the girlies' or 'that would be perfect solution for the cutically challenged' or 'just give me some now', would have been misinterpreted as a joke at best or made me appear weird and pervy at worst.  Inside I really wanted to scream, why not me.

Maybe its just that I need to get over myself and be even more open about who I am and be more 'out', but I'm not ready yet and am not sure if I ever will be.  But resigning myself to being on the outside looking in, is really hard.

Obscure film reference, but I was always struck by one of the scenes in the Gene Wilder version of 'Charlie and the Chocolate Factory'.  It is when poor Charlie Bucket spots the other children eating lots of sweets in the sweet shop and puts his nose to window wishing he could be with them, enjoying what they have, but knowing he'll always be too poor.  Clearly he doesn't realise that all the chocolate is really going to do is make you fat and that many of the children inside were probably wishing they didn't have to be there.  But the grass is always greener over there isn't it?  And while I think that and won't do anything to actually scream out loud that 'I am girl, hear me', I'll just have to carry on screaming inside.

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