Men Are Dumb and You Are Too

The oddly validating nature of gendered discourse

“Though I -know- a fair bit about the experience of ‘being a woman,’ it was all theoretical in the end.”

Last night I ended up at a table with five women.

I’d gone out to do a wine tasting with two of them, but when we’d moved on to getting dinner, we’d found that the mother of one of my companions was also there with a friend, and then my friend’s sister was called to join us and I was surrounded.

Most of my friends are women. This is to be expected when you’re raised as one. As such, I like women, I trust women, I feel comfortable around women. I go out of my way to see women doctors and therapists.

And the women in my life feel safe around me, obviously. I go on trips with them, even when they leave their husbands at home. They get drunk and wrestle each other on top of me while I’m trying to sleep. I cook dinner for them while they keep my wine glass filled. It’s a good time.

But last night was the first time it really sank in that, though I -know- a fair bit about the experience of “being a woman,” it was all theoretical in the end. It was doing research for a big project, studying for a role that never quite touched me. I know about the experience, but I don’t -understand- it fully.

And my friends who were carrying on these conversations around me at the dinner table shrugged it off because why would I understand? I was never a woman, after all.

It was also the first time I’ve been explicitly discussed as ‘oh you know how men are,’ *gestures to me* right in front of me.

And you know what? It was awesome.

Even when they were implying that men can be entertaining sure, but usually a bit more simple and straightforward than women tend to be (these are their opinions, I wouldn’t dare to have one on this topic).

I felt very specifically and distinctly excluded from understanding, and it was the first time since coming out that I felt my identity being affirmed by exclusion.

I felt my identity being affirmed by exclusion.

Previously I’d felt my gender affirmed by being welcomed into the men’s chorus, specifically, as a safe male-centric space. That was great and all, but then the words versus the treatment (trans men were always held at a certain distance, most notably if they were single) by the gay men that made up the majority of the group got to me. It was inclusion but only on the fringes, which is not actually a great feeling, it turns out.

So apparently, I can be kinda dumb, and they suspect I could be easily distracted from a conversation by boobs, and honestly, I’d never felt so seen in my life.