16 October 2000 To be real...

"Until I find a real man, I'll take a real smoke."

So says the pack of matches I picked up at the gas station the other day.

...implying that one either needs a man or a cigarette?

...and what the fuck is a "REAL" man, anyway? As opposed to what? An unreal man?

I asked Norman for his thoughts.

"A real man," he said, "likes sports, and has a certain amount of body hair, and..."

"...And wears stupid hats?" I finished.

"Yes."

We continued discussing it. "...And yes, a real man has to have a certain amount of hair, and if he begins to lose his hair, he must worry about it, but he can't worry about the appearance of his hair TOO much, because that would render him a faggot."

I giggled. Norman is possibly the only person who could use the phrase "render him a faggot," with an almost-hint of a lisp, and actually sound like he knows what he's talking about. I pray he never becomes a politician; I'm sure many people would take him far too seriously and the world would go to absolute hell.

Back to being a real man. What the fuck is a real man?

I assume a "real" man would have society's ideas of masculine characteristics: muscles, zero fashion sense, a lot to prove, a big dick, interests in obnoxious music and hunting, a lot of Yankees shirts, dirt under his fingernails, and perhaps a boat or a truck. A real man would take care of his woman. A real man would have a flashy car and a lot of money. And he'd play cards and spit.

WHY does this image revolt me? Could it be I am a lesbian?

Honestly -- and I am being QUITE sincere, here -- I have often wondered about that. The men I have chosen to be important parts of my life are, for the most part, a little bit effeminate. I mean, no, Aaron doesn't paint his fingernails and sing show tunes in falsetto, but he doesn't hunt and he can dress himself well and take care of his hair in such a way that makes everybody THINK he's gay. And Peter, for heaven's sake, DOES paint his fingernails and sing show tunes in falsetto. The men in my life have always had appreciation for art and music and love letters and long talks. They have taken care of me, but not in such a way that would imply I'm unable to do it myself. For gahd's sake, I've taught men how to crochet and make applesauce because they honestly were interested. I'm discussed my menstrual cycle with men because they truly cared how my body works (and not necessarily because "dude, it's NASTY to fuck when a chick's got her period!").

Apparently, I don't know any real men.

"Real men, like the ones in Lynyrd Skynyrd, do not like it up the butt..." --Aaron

What makes a man a man?

(OTHER than his weenie...)

Football?

Biceps?

(I've been intimate with exactly two men with large, "manly" upper-arm muscles. Ironically, they'd once had sex with each other. To my knowledge, neither one liked football.)

So, okay, I've looked over my history of people I've been attracted to, been intimate with, whatever. All of the males I have felt particular attraction and affection towards have been atypically sensitive; atypically interested in "female" things like cooking, writing poetry, singing, and fixing their hair; atypically DISINTERESTED in "male" things like spitting, defending their woman's honor, and Nascar racing. Strangely enough, many of them have more feminine physical features: they are thin and have pretty smiles; they have muscles sometimes but not the kind you'd see on "90210"; they have pretty eyelashes and nice full lips...

Am I gay?

Do I keep finding more feminine men because I really like women? Is my preference for gay guys and bi guys (and straight guys that people THINK are gay) a veiled preference for girls???

I have never been really intimate with a woman. I have made out with exactly two girls in my life (on more than two occasions, but there were only two girls), and both times, I did find the experience rather pleasant. I have never fallen in love with a woman, although I have cared deeply -- very deeply, and in a more-than-friends sense -- for a woman once or twice. I wrote a play in which the two female characters are in love, although they never do admit it. I've been attracted to women before on a sexual level -- usually women who are also sort of androgynous and have shortish hair... I can easily imagine myself having sex with a woman.

I cannot imagine myself falling in love with a woman and spending the rest of my life with her. Also, I cannot imagine myself sleeping with a woman I didn't have very intense feelings for, and those feelings are very rare.

Am I in denial???

Helena, why don't you like Real Men?

I don't know.

Perhaps it's because I'm not exactly a real woman. I don't wear skirts. I have short hair. I am a slob and a klutz and I am most certainly not dainty. I do not think all babies are cute. I cannot wear high heels without falling over. I don't wear makeup and I rarely wear much jewelry. I'd rather shave my head than watch my weight. I like movies with guts in them. I like to take care of myself and open my own doors. I drink my coffee with a shot of espresso in it. I walk fast enough to keep up with most men. I like Real rock-and-roll in addition to "chick music." I have never played with dolls. I do not shop for hours, or talk on the phone for hours, or giggle with my girl friends. I don't HAVE girl friends. Oh, and YES, I have peed in the shower. I don't know if that's an unnatural thing for a Real Woman to do, but it's certainly an unnatural thing for one to admit.

Naturally, having been a child who played with rocks and read books instead of playing with dollies and horsies and fantasy castles (tm), I've grown up to be a woman who seeks out men who played beauty shop as kids.

...So... About this Real Man thing... When am I going to find one? And if I'm NOT going to find one, when am I going to come out of the closet and be a Real Lesbian?

I'm NOT going to find one, and I'm not going to search for one. I am absolutely, one-hundred-percent disinterested in conforming to gender roles, or in becoming involved with someone who does. I love people who are a good healthy mixture of genders. I think androgyny, both physical and behavioral, is incredibly sexy. So, no, even being a woman, who is supposed to (according to RJ Reynolds and their matchbooks, at least) find a Real Man, I do not want to find a Real Man.

(Now, I HAVE a boyfriend, by the way, with whom I'm very happy; he thinks he's a lesbian in a man's body, and I think I'm a gay man in a woman's body, which seems quite ideal to me, so really, this entire entry about finding a Real Man is sort of irrelevent, because I'm not "looking," so to speak... But just for kicks, supposing I had not met and become involved with Norman, I would STILL not be at all interested in finding a Real Man.)

And actually, no, I wouldn't be looking to become a hard-core lesbian, either. Maybe I could fall in love with a woman. But I already know for certain that I CAN fall in love with a man, Real or otherwise. I'm not a lesbian. Bisexual, perhaps -- a little straight girl who sometimes really likes girls -- but undeniably more interested in persons of the male species.

And so now, in honor of my collection of non-Real men -- my friends, my lover, my former lovers -- and my small collection of non-Real women -- my friends and the two girls I've made out with -- I am going to light a cigarette:

"Until I find a real man, I'll take a real smoke."

The act will be like a champagne toast. Here's to not finding a real man. Here's to not looking. Here's to being freaking happy anyway.

No bull,
~Helena*

"Well I'm not the world's most masculine man, but I know what I am and I'm glad I'm a man, and so is Lola..." --The Kinks, "Lola."