Okay, okay. Sure, I’m not a physical girl. But! I’ve Connected with a lot of women in My Life – from Mom through various G/Fs and Nuns at church and Teachers and so on – that TECH has acquired quite a bit of Conceptual data on the subject by now.
TECH’s overall assessment? “Being a Girl Totally Sucks!”
And because of TECH’s overwhelming amount of data in My mental Files -and this data then being used by PASSION to imagine being a Girl IRL – Conscious Me [N: primarily Influenced by the overwhelming amount of data] “being a physical Girl puts Me at a disadvantage” Imma say, definitively: “Don’t sign Me up for this.”
You know, I totally get why any Human Being would want to transition to the gender of Their Own choice. I can “see” the Why, if I were in their shoes. I just don’t agree that – for Me, personally – it would be the right move. Dude! Have You seen what general Society does to women? They get completely, literally f#cked, most of the time and in most situations! Girls do the same job as Guys, but get paid less. Girls hafta carry the load of baking up New Human Beings in their literal bodies regardless of Her Own preferences to the condition of pregnancy! Even if – *clutches Pearls* – I get f#cked by some Man!?! [N: AKA raped] And speaking of offspring, if I don’t end up pregnant, I still get punished, having to Experience the f#cking rag every month, for literal decades of My Life!
“F###CKKKK MEEEE!!” [N: TECH sees nothing enjoyable about any of this]
Yeah, from My POV, being a Girl mostly sucks. But – as a Guy – I have total male privilege. I don’t hafta deal with any of this BS. I get to live “a charmed Life” when it’s all said and done. And holding all these aces can completely turn Me into a Complete @$$hole & Sh#tty Person… if I don’t pay attention.
So? I’ve learned to pay attention.
I notice the details, observing all the Women in My Life… from the very first breath all the way up through Current Day. Living with a Single Mom & 4 other Siblings? I go to school & come home & do My homework & when it’s time for bed, I brush My teeth, turn out the lights & jump underneath the covers. Who cooked that yummy Dinner I ate earlier? And the dessert? [N: dessert is My favorite part of any meal, FYI] Who pays the bills so that the shower water keeps running, that the lights keep turning on when I flip the switch, Who washes My clothes & My favorite cuddly stuffed animal & My sheets & blankets? While We are talking about it, Who fills the gas tank of the car so I can be driven to school every day? [N: I like school, BTW. I learn a lot of cool stuff there, I love My Teachers, etc. etc.]
And now – In Hindsight, where I learn most of My lessons & important sh#t – I now know the Answers to all of these questions.
But as a Kid, benefiting from all these things? I thought I knew: “it’s magic, of course!” And that’s the answer I scribbled in the blank of the MadLibs, using My purple crayon. And over time – the progression of My physical Life – I would change these answers – scratch out ‘magic’ and fill in “better” answers based on IRL Experience data. And then even later in the Story than that – becoming a Dad Myself – I scribbled out the answers again, and changed them. Again. Over and over, to infinity.
And every step of the way – every newly scribbled out answer and rewriting in a new one – a mental grenade went off in My SB. It’s these mental grenades that force Me – the Blind Guy – to keep moving, feeling My way around the Elephant. Learning. “Gaining new perspective.” And – if I notice the details – use that data to tweak My Own behavior. For a better result. A better marriage. A better Family Life. A better…
You fill in the blank, DR. It’s Your MadLibs You are playing here.
. . .
Conner’s Comments: I don’t expect a Child to have this Adult-sized perspective, not when They are a Child. Why? Because this Kid – this fresh-outta-the-box New Human Being – lacks enough “necessary & critical” data in TECH’s Files, in the Invisible Library. It’s My job – as this Kid’s Parent – to give Them the right Conceptual data [N: ideas] and carefully curated Experience data so by the time They reach Adulthood? They can fly – happily, safely, self-sufficiently – outta the nest. And be… “okay” without Me there, right next to Them. That’s My job, as the Parent. According to Me loll.