I didn't even know the meaning of teh word (or the word!) for quite some time.
AOL's "The Gazebo" was the first place I really learned anything....
For me, it was odd little quirks. LOTS of odd quirks.
For example, at the pool, about... 7, 8 maybe? I envied the girls their sleek forms. I was embarassed by my body - notably, that certain parts "stuck out" in a wet swim suit.
In grade school, I carried my books up against my chest, like a girl. Just imprinted on it. No boobs to protect, but...
Liked nail polish, too.
I liked and like form-fitting clothes (not that I can wear them at this time - third time I need to lose the weight. Being a computer geek sucks.) Of course, a guy who wears tight clothes (even if he grew up in the 80s) is gay. (BS, of course, but anyway...)
But girls? Most of the wardrobe is meant to accentuate their figure. Show more here, exaggerate there, make mountains out of molehills, emphasize the cleavage, the hips, hide the shoulders (anyone else remember shoulder pads? ;-) ), draw attention to "the goods."
Man advertises by the cost of his suit - but no one really can eyeball the difference between well-fitted "off the rack" and hand-taiored Parisian suits.
Even _I_ can tell the difference between Walmart, K-Mart, JCPennys, Macys, and Gucci or Chanel or Kors or Yves St. Laurent.
IN ORDER, mind, and I'm genetic male, and don't really pay attention to style! it all goes to how well "put together" she is. Whereas.... A suit is a suit is a suit, unless it's a sub-par OTR without any tailoring. (In which case, you look like a low-grade detective in a cop flick, or a Secret Service "tool".)
IE, you can tell "walmart" from Brooks Brothers or Men's Wearhouse. but harder to distinguish between Mens' Wearhouse and Brooks Brothers.
Back on topic:
I never cared about "girls" the same way the other guys seemed to.
More nurturing, a lot less dominating.
Wanting to be cultured, softer, genteel - never cared for the rough-and-tumble of the boys. King of the hill? OK. rugby/football? No thanks. Even king of the hill was an infrequent thing...
Wanted to look like the girls, get close to them, and then "get closer", sure - but it wasn't a "Bend her over" sort of thing, pardon the bluntness. More of a seduction, lots of emotion, cuddling, touching.
Puberty came a little late but hit like a <CENSORED> hammer on an anvil, repeatedly. Still wanted women, disliked how my body was developing - hair in places I didn't want, for example - but weird blending, too. I liked having a goatee - maybe to hide who I am? Others have commented on the same.... young guys in "command" positions frequently grow facial hair as a mask, but also as "authority" mask. So, it hides facial expressions and tics a bit, but also makes them look older and more capable. Probably rooted in barabarian times (Romans shaved, for example. Barbarians did not...)
I didn't want hair on my legs, though... Nor arms.
Didn't want the mass - though I LOVED the strength. (As an aside: I was the one they picked on in grade school. They = EVERYONE. Came out without a testicle... God I hated Catholic Parochial School. And "without" means ruptured, actual condition unknown. but it's "unwound" if you'll forgive the descriptiveness....)
I could talk with the girls without any issues. Was always called Mature for my age. (then I found that "being mature" meant being everyone's draught horse/mule/sherpa.)
I could compartmentalize my brain - something women are "famous" for, as in multi-tasking. Able to run three conversations at once with different people. Not miss a beat.
Wanted boobs since.... Well, I HAD boobs since. (no typo) I was chesty as a pre-pubescent boy, had girlish "tits" - but no tissue at the time, just fat. It must've been aparrent to all, though (I wasn't skinny since... 3rd grade?) - I came in in a V-neck undershirt one day and the boys said I was wearing a bra. Had to prove I wasnt.
If they only knew I had already been wearing bras for years! Just - I already knew (Irish-Italian Roman Catholic indoctrination) it was "wrong." So I learned to suppress things early on, and learned to hide who and what I was. so successfull that now I don't even know who I am!
But hopefully I'll figure that out soon. At 39, I'm not about to let this fester any more. Holding the body in rigid postures? Proving myself every day? What's the point? No fun, no relaxation, just an endless task list of "NEXT!"... EFF THAT.
I won't mess upt he board with a rant, but: It's worth it to check out the PUA sites as well, especially Roissy in D.C. (IIRC, now it's citizen renegade, but Roissy will still get you th blog.) Just check out the rules... And to note (as a final "reason") - I'VE SEEN AND DONE THIS. I KNOW how it works from trial and error - and from being on the (unintended) RECEIVING side. Just as an OBSERVER. I KNEW the guys talking were FULL OF IT, as they chatted up our other co-worker.... I worked with all of them, SAME DEPARTMENT. for 6 years at that time.
BUT IT WAS HAVING THE DESIRED EFFECT ON ME - And I'm not attracted to men!
So... :-P
Yeah, maybe I need to get into therapy and start peeling the mask away. Or maybe just make a decision, and force things that don't QUITE fit to conform, until I can sort it all out.
