Things I’d do if I wasn’t afraid of appearing masculine

Reddit recently asked men what they would do if they weren’t afraid of appearing ‘feminine’. ‘I’d knit so hard, bro,’ was one response. ‘Drape myself in velvet’ was another. ‘Wax my butt crack’ was unexpected, but it did get me wondering what I’d do if the question was reversed.

So here are the things I’d do if I wasn’t afraid of appearing masculine. (Ladies and transgender ladies, add yours in the comments!)

Cut the social fluff

Not send thank-you cards. Or reply to every text. I’d get straight to the point in emails, waste no time with padding just to be ‘nice’ (‘hope you had a great summer/Christmas!’ ‘I was just wondering if you’d had a chance to… but totally fine if you haven’t!’)

Instead of thinking I was rude, the other person would admire my assertiveness.

Wear shapeless jeans that I’d only paid 30 bucks for

Every. Damn. Day. And not the designer ‘boyfriend’ style that cost a bomb and you have to wear heels with so you don’t look like a slob.

Grow a beer gut and genuinely think it’s awesome and funny

I’d draw a lipstick mouth under my belly-button and make children laugh at birthday parties. (Then their parents fall all over themselves congratulating me on being ‘SO GREAT with kids’.)

Interrupt people when they waffle on

Forget ‘mansplaining’ – I just want to be able to say ‘yeah, I get it’ without someone having a meltdown. Just because women have better life expectancy, doesn’t mean we want to spend it smiling politely while someone tells us stuff we already know / is BS.

Oh, and speak over people when they interrupt me.

Let my thighs relax on public transport

In fact, take up space full-stop.

Not offer to help in the kitchen at dinner parties

Just sit back, chillax and let everyone enjoy my company.

Chuck a packet of Tim Tams on the table when it’s my turn to host the mother’s group

Followed by a ‘What do I know about baking, right?’ smile-shrug. And then the other mothers laugh because they’re just be so impressed I showed up with anything.

Eff like a man

This one is from a friend. Truly. “Because most porn is from a male perspective, in my fantasies I’m often more masculine. I’ve always want to just [she made grunting sound] pound stuff. The other night I told my boyfriend and he agreed, so I dry-humped him from behind. We both had a happy ending.”

(She makes a good point – and since the clitoris is at the front of a lady, it kind of makes sense anatomically that this would be pleasurable.)

But basically, we wanna f*** like Catherine Trammel, and not have to look like Sharon Stone when we do it. (Sure, we’ll skip the ice pick).

Swagger with my chest out at the pool. Dish out winks.

Why? Because now that I’m breastfeeding, I have once-in-a-lifetime awesome norgs and the world* needs to admire them. Quietly. As we do with man-pecs.

*’The world’ at the swimming pool. If you want selfies, ask your mum.

Get back into martial arts

I wish I hadn’t quit just before I got to black belt because my sparring partner mocked me for looking ‘scary’ (read ‘un-f__able’) while fighting. No one looks like a Charlie’s freakin’ Angel when they’re red-faced and sweating with their hair plastered to their face.

Get my hair cut short, without wearing extra make-up / a skirt to offset it

Women are allowed to ‘play’ with masculinity as long as we’re still overtly feminine (think conventionally beautiful Dakota Johnson dancing girlishly in a man’s shirt after sex in Fifty Shades. Or by contrast, buff footy players dressing up in drag because – hilarious!)

Walk around with my shirt off in summer

Actually, stop wearing a bra full-stop. They’re hot, uncomfortable, and I ONLY wear one so I don’t cop stares in public. (Sure, some large-busted ladies find them supportive. The point is, WE WANT THE OPTION.)

Have a mid-life crisis

This would be no Diane Lane Under the Tuscan Sun ‘kids have grown up’ holiday. I’d just take off completely from all family responsibilities, knowing someone else has it covered. And no one would give me s*** about it either.

Laugh when someone offered me a fraction of my co-worker’s salary.

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