Most people would assume that I am a very feminine 'type'. Yes I can see how they might arrive at that conclusion my interests and career have been based around the pursuit of beauty; fashion art and design, I sew, I enjoy dressing in a feminine manner and do wear make up most days. I need it or I look exhumed and get tired of responding to the 'Oh Lisa are you
okay?' questions. Their horror is never quite feigned.
I am not heavy or masculine but do have a predisposition for trying to prove my physical strength, sometimes this leaves me in the hands of chiropractor or barely able to walk, not very bright I know, its something I am learning to overcome these days.
So I think in reality I resemble either of these ladies images on any given day. Some days I try harder than others - obviously.
But just give me a chance to be a bloke and I will be it!
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A wise woman once said to me, 'let men help you when they offer don't
leave them standing while you exhaust yourself or it will be like that
for life'.
Smart woman.
Men are stronger - their muscle mass
has proven to be much stronger than a females, so I could never truly compete with their god given brawn. For some reason I want to
look like a movie star but lift like Hulk Hogan. There have been times
when I did wish I could lift someone over my head and send them soaring
into the atmosphere. I like to think the Hulk lives within me, despite my gangly
thin white arms and fine wrists.
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The disparity is clear.
I love cooking, sewing, being attentive and nurturing - kind of feminine attributes. I look female - but don't goad me or I will attempt to wrestle you to the ground, get you in a headlock or show you I can lift your body weight and perhaps even try and spin you around and around while your legs leave the floor. Its a bit wrong and kinda blokey. Hopefully I am a recovering from this ailment. Sure I then see the confusion on everybody's face when once having done
this I expect people to treat me like a lady. I like chivalry and love
it when a door is opened for me, my jacket taken or the seat is offered
elegantly to me - to be honest I wish it was the constant. But then I
start talking about roof racks as my latest fascination or brag about my
manly attributes that kind of liberty usually fades.
Which brings me to my hidden ball.
Perhaps I have an undescended testicle? Perhaps it formed within me while I was inutero and I grew around it, I am sure its hidden in there up behind my left lung or something? Inside me there is this super strong heaving masculine man - perhaps I should rephrase that...
somewhere in my psyche there is an envy. I envy male strength. I dont want to be like a man I just wish I was as strong or better still physically a lot stronger than a man. Sure this might be theoretically possible and god knows I can manage a severe leg lock, but to just go wham and do it...
ahhh. Then I could pick someone annoying or rude up over my head grunt while I throw them three postcodes or zip codes away, straighten my skirt, pick up my purse and be on my way.
Meanwhile I just think 'HULK SMASH!' and walk away.
