He unfolds a rather lacey - honestly, very expensive - pair of underwear that Lena had in her bag, and grimaces, "Yuck, why do women wear these?" As if two weeks ago he wasn't complaining that I never seem to be wearing lingerie under my everyday clothes.
"My boobs won't stop jiggling," he pouts. "Every little movement, there they go."
"So wear a bra, hon," I say. He rolls his eyes and goes "Pfft," like he's above it. So far he's just hanging out in his own dirty clothes.
For the record, David has also stated he doesn't get the point of this blog, and said he has no intention of ever reading it (He never got on Insta or Snap either, and he only follows like five accounts on Twitter.) Which is probably for the best, because if I showed him what this Daryl person was writing about recently, his brain would explode. Anyway, whatever you hear about him, you'll probably hear from me or maybe Pete. And I intend on being as candid as anyone else who writes here...
Pete highlighted a few key posts for
I can't blame David for any of this but it doesn't make him pleasant to deal with, because it makes it feel like we're not in this together. Like my life hasn't been turned inside-out as well. He has this perception that being male is so great that everyone must prefer it, like I should be happier about it. And I can acknowledge that it comes with certain advantages and privileges, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't prefer my outside to match my inside. I'm a total girly-girl - I crave new purses and shoes, I fantasize about what I can do with my hair, I never leave the house without makeup. Of course that also means that if I ever do, I'm going to face a lot of remarks like "You look tired/sick today."
My point is, It's not fair to either of us that I'm Zack and he's Lena. Being a man doesn't seem like fun to me, it seems very banal. It's a real loss. Maybe it's ironic that Pete gets where I'm coming from, but maybe not... he's been to the other side, he "gets" the appeal, even if it comes with a sacrifice thanks to society (and, well, biology.) But you don't need me to extol the virtues of femininity here, I'm sure.
I just... look down at the borrowed crew-neck shirt I'm wearing and sigh. Then I re-apply deodorant because Zack is sweaty AF.
I can at least look on the bright side. If you have to be a guy, it pays to be a fit, young, pretty guy with high cheekbones and a trim waist. And beautiful eyelashes. Not a fan of the stubble, though. And if David has to be a woman, he's a financially well-off, older single (i.e. isn't going to get a nasty surprise when we get home) woman who runs her own company. God, what I'd give to be HBIC! I love David, but I'm not sure he's fit to run a snackbar. And Lena looks amazing for her age, I'd love to steal her skincare secrets - not that David appreciates any of that.
I don't know. I'm scared of the pendulum swinging too far the other way - as it seems to do for many, like Pete - and finding out that David, or I, prefer our new configurations. But like, we've got to find ways not to think it's just all miserable all the time.
At the very least we've got... eight months? A year? That's a long time to just sit and be huffy about something you can't change.
Jenn "Zack" Ryland
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