Before we begin, I am obligated to inform you that this may not, in fact, be all that funny unless read in some variety of ridiculous voice. I recommend the deepest voice you can make. Also, comments expressing clichéd sentiments about the subject matter will be frowned at and, subsequently, filed into the part of my brain with everything else I pretend doesn't exist. Your comments will be seated between the time I fell off the swings in sixth grade and the time that I accidentally went to hug someone when I intended to shake their hand. They will be seated behind every instance of me trying to use my left hand to shake hands ever. So, don't waste your own time; say something witty or rain praise down on me for being a god among men, better yet, do both. Keeping that in mind, let's proceed, shall we?
I have been a girl for nearly nineteen years now,1 and I have one thing to say about my experiences. "Being a girl has been the worst experience of my life." That's pretty bad, because my entire life has been spent as a girl - as much as dress and act like the boy I probably should have been, which is not to say I think I'm actually a boy in a girl's body, just that I'm one of those girls who didn't come out of the tomboy stage. I could list about a million things I hate about being female - one in particular happens on a regular basis.
I think the one that bothers me most is that I retain weight more easily than I would if I were a dude. My body is stupid enough to think that I'll (a) attract a mate with all of this2 and (b) that there will suddenly be a world-wide, massive famine that will render me in need of fuel for a baby I don't (or won't3) have. Since males don't have to worry about losing babies to famine, they tend to retain less weight, on average, than females in general. I, of course, do. Of course, there's also the possibility that, since humans did not evolve to consume grains, my body assumed it actually was starving for fifteen or sixteen years, and I'm somehow failing to convince it that I'm not eating that shit anymore - which probably has more to do with the occasional cheat than what I eat on a daily basis. Just humor me for a moment, yeah? Following this line of thought, my body has been like, "OMG, why don't you feed me real food, bitch? Oh, you know what, we must just be going through some kind of cow-shortage, because otherwise you wouldn't be eating your food's food," for the larger portion of my life. Now it's confused and complaining because, "Like, why is it that you continue to shove that shit into me if there are plenty of cows and other cute animals around to eat? I guess we're trying to re-establish cow herds or something, so I'll just dispatch the insulin squad to make sure you have plenty of energy stored away for when we're not allowed to eat cows again, in the hopes that, someday, there will be unlimited beef forever. You know, just in case you get knocked up or whatever." Because my physiology totally works that way.
Normally, I only think about my weight in terms of, "This desk is tiny, I need to find a slightly bigger one," and "There's a gap between those two assholes in the hall, if I were just a little tinier, I could fit through it," and, my personal favorite, "God damn it, I wouldn't have to apologize for bumping into people in the halls if they weren't too dumb to realize that I'm standin-... maybe if I were tinier I wouldn't have this problem in the first place?" Honestly, I don't care about any of the social stigmas attached to being overweight - particularly since they don't really apply to me - I care because it's inconvenient. I like to think that, some day, I'll have to opposite problem. "Holy fuck this desk is big, I wish there was a tinier one," or, "If those assholes were tinier, there might actually be a gap for me to slip through so I could get to wherever the fuck I'm going faster," or "All these assholes keep bumping into me and they don't even apologize. I'd wish I had the mass to shove them around and demand one, but I've been there before and I don't want to do that again."4
But, then you have days like today, or rather, tonight, where I realize things about myself that I really don't want to acknowledge - like the fact that I am, surprisingly, just as romantically inclined as any other female hermit. I go through my life actively avoiding that moment of epiphany where I realize that some guy I barely know is actually kind of attractive. Why? Because it makes life less complicated. Of course, despite my best efforts, it always happens anyway, usually for someone that is completely and totally out of my reach. Even when I could reach out and take them, I become a coward and refuse to act because I don't like being that public about my emotions. I'm emotionally repressed, so sue me. Really, when this does happen, it's not that big of a deal. Okay, it's a big deal, depending on the object of my affection's location in relation to myself at any given moment. But it's only a big deal because I go insane in the 'homicidal serial killer' or 'stalker' kind of way if they live too close to me or on a street that I use regularly. Seriously, I can be a real creep sometimes.
Really, though, I don't kick myself too hard over the unobtainables. Having a crush on an unobtainable in my own life isn't too much different from having a fangasm every time I see a picture of David Tennant5; it's innocent (enough) and doesn't have the potential to make or break my year.
The ones I always end up kicking myself over are the ones that actually might go places, under optimal circumstances. Sometimes, they might even go places despite the circumstances at the time. I kick myself over it because, on occasion, I will clearly see that it can go someplace, maybe, and then I don't act on that moment of clarity. Why? Because I'm not an optimist; I automatically shoot thoughts like that in the head under the assumption that all of my feelings will, forever, be one-sided in every case imaginable. You should see where I dump the bodies - it's not pretty. I really need to find a new landfill to dump any new ones in before they start piling up in the street.
But, you know what? No fucking longer. Okay, a little longer, but after that, fuck being a pessimist. Okay, no, being a pessimist is okay. Just... Look, this is what I'm trying to say - no longer will I be questing for the holy grail that is health, I'm starting a new quest, and it involves being in prime condition the next time I have the opportunity to pursue an eligible bachelor6. This quest also comes with a side-quest attached: "Satisfy Curiosity." I don't know what I'd look like as a normal person, so I'm going to find out. Period. End of story. I can only hope my boobs don't disappear in the process.
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1It's entirely possible that, if past lives exist, I was a boy in one. I'm not qualified to say for certain.
2Yes, I did just gesture to all of me.
3Even providing for the future possibility of being in a situation where most people have children, I probably won't want to.
4The language used in these thoughts has been preserved in it's natural state to provide the reader with a more realistic reading experience.
5David Tennant is amazing. This is a universal truth.
6This, in no way, implies that I am unhappy with my chronic bachelorettehood. In fact, I take pride in knowing that I don't have to commit my time to more people than absolutely necessary. I love being alone. In fact, I should just marry myself and move into a cabin in the mountains as far from people as possible while still having the internet.
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