Member-only story
Sometimes I Wish I Were a Boy
…and that’s not gender dysphoria talking in this case.
Sometimes it seems that males have an easier time of it when it comes to life.
I’m not exactly talking about male privilege — though I know it exists; rather, I look at the men who waft in and out of my life and find myself almost tricked into believing that they are fine, perfectly fine, with no issues or stressors or complaints about the world around them.
Of course I know that’s not the case. In the public forum of the internet, men gripe along with us women. They get mad about sports and politics and celebrities and what-have-you. They complain about money and bills and the increasing cost of living. These things are normal.
But I can’t help feeling that a lot of men walk around with Teflon suits where the worries of the world just slide off of them — and I envy that, among other things.
It also irks me how men, even men who are strangers, can just converse about almost anything. “Bro talk,” as I’ve heard it called. I watch my coworkers and supervisors do this all the time, swapping stories and anecdotes back and forth, and what I feel is almost a sense of amazement. Why is it so easy for them to talk about everything and nothing all at once?
