There’s nothing I like better than the company of men. I love their bluntness. I revere their sense of honesty. I enjoy their banter. Some very funny blokes have made me giggle till my mascara’s run down my cheeks. Their sense of camaraderie makes me feel looked after and protected. Both my best friends are male and nobody makes me more at ease than they do. I’ve got the best daddy in the world and I’m surrounded by male friends and colleagues whom I consider to be the pinnacle of manhood. I’d also like to give a shout out to all the good decent gentlemen out there who make the world a better place. I celebrate men and their strange inexplicable ways…
Most of the time.
There are days when they make me shed a lot of tears because that bluntness which I so love can slice through me, and that honesty which I respect so much can electrocute me in an instance when I’m not ready for it. Their lack of it can also have the same effect. A man’s lie can knock the wind out of you. They lie. They cheat. They trick. They jilt. They torment. This is not to say that there aren’t any women out there who are guilty of all these things. God knows I’ve witnessed my undeserving male friends being tortured by many a cruel woman. Yet somehow, these girls always got their comeuppance in one form or other. Society makes sure of that. Yet, a lot of men who have committed the above boo-boos just seem to get on with their lives. They carry on and carry no guilt, no remorse, no consequence.
This is why I’d like to be a man for a day or two. I want to see what it’s like to be able to get away with murder. Not literally, of course. Although, it is quite surprising how many scumbags in this world physically butcher a woman for some fickle reason or other and somehow manage to get away with it. I would like to discover for myself if this urge for arrogance and dominance is either innate in men, or just plain bred from birth. I’d very much like to suckle on the milk of male liberty.
I want to be a man so that I can do well in my career without society accusing me of either sleeping my way to the top or being labelled unfit to be a wife or a girlfriend. I want to be a man so that I can nurture my leadership skills without being called bossy or a control freak. I want to be a man so that I don’t have to dumb myself down to be considered an attractive prospect. I want to be a man so that I can sleep with an array of people while being absolutely emotionally detached, and to use women as sperm dispensers. I want to be a man so that I can better understand why a huge percentage of young men today are complete and utter commitment-phobes, while the other half just settles for dumb women. I want to be a man so that I can experience this appeal for dumb or loose women with no personality. I want to be a man so that my ability behind the wheel cannot be doubted just for having ovaries. I want to be a man so that I don’t have to put up with degrading sexual harassment when I’m walking along in the street, minding my own business.
On a more arbitrary note, I’d also like to be a man just to experience bladder relief in a vertical standing position.
I don’t hate men. I well and truly don’t, and I cannot express it often enough. Yet, I do envy the privileges and cart blanches which society lets them relish. I would like to be seen as their equal. I don’t want to beat men; I want to join them, as so many other women do.