Girls

[littera_abactor]

The recent spate of genderfuck stories triggered something of an epiphany for me.

I'm no good at being a girl.

I'm happy to be female, yes, and I can't even imagine wanting to be male, but the distance between "female" and "girl" is huge.

Actually, the difference between "female" and "girl" is me.

I can't dress myself. I finally learned what a

Comments

[littera_abactor]

Oh, no. I'm not going to hold myself to drag queen standards; that's just asking for feelings of crawling inadequacy. I've only ever known one drag queen well, but he:

a) Knew all these really complicated girl things, to the point that he'd start giving me advice and I wouldn't even know the words. It would just be "So you bliskropanch to tyrjownk and that makes your uiopcuton fogovitive." And I'd say, "Um. OK." And he'd say, "So you're going to..." and I say, "bliskropanch?" And then he'd sigh and fix my hair himself.

b) Was gorgeous.

So, no, I'm not trying for drag queen. I've given up on real girl, too, even if my mother hasn't. At this point, I'd be thrilled not to be the kind of person who dies from, say, a tragic pantyhose mishap. Or has to be untangled from her clothing by her loved ones, which happened to me less than an hour ago after I got my head stuck in one of my new pieces of clothing. (Which I was just trying on, to see if it fits. It doesn't. Or it would, if I could wear three-inch heels with it, but if I did that, the pantyhose wouldn't have a chance to get me.)

Really, it's hard to see where my basic skills have improved since my toddler days.