The World of Men | celainn's Blog

I guess I must preface this with the idea that not a lot of people will understand what I'm about to (try to) say.  Then again, I've thought this very thought countless times on EP and been mistaken. 

That said: I somehow guess this time I will be correct when I say that most of you won't understand.  I am OK with that, but I will try my best to be clear. 

When I was a child I fell utterly, implicitly, and forever in love with men.

That is, their bodies. 

"That's what I am." I'd nod to myself happily. 

Until I passed by a mirror or looked down at myself and realized that, no: I looked nothing like a man.

Why I thought that I looked at all like a man escapes me.  Perhaps because I looked very little like a woman, either.  The basic woman parts were there, of course, there was no denying that. 

However, I didn't FEEL like a woman. 

I didn't enjoy the things that women enjoyed.

No one observed in me the classic (stereotypical) behavior of women. 

Hell, I didn't even LIKE women all that much. 

I much preferred to hang out with boys.

I tried to make myself look like a boy as much as I possibly could (and as much as my mother would allow at any one time). 

I didn't look and see a boy in the mirror.  No.

But I didn't see a girl, either.

...and every time I saw a guy (whether on TV or in the movies or passing me in the halls at school) I saw...myself.

Not what I wanted to be or what I should be...but simply what I WAS.

...and still, to this day, this feeling persists. 

Maybe that's why I have so few mirrors in my house...