Tuesday, February 08, 2011
Thousand: Two Hundred Eighty
a wall I tried to make man-shaped. But I knew people saw through it. They called me names. You know, when a boy in gym class in high school, thinking to insult me, maybe it was the worst thing he could think of to say, called me Woman. Called me woman. I remember. I was puzzled that he thought that was a bad thing. But what I remember most was the feeling, how right it was. Woman. That was what I was. Would be someday. If I was luckier than I’d ever been up to that point. I almost loved
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Funny form of insult that - to call a man a woman. And yet it's meant to bite, and on most instances it does.
Yeah. A boy in gym class called me Woman. As an insult it mystified me. There were so many women I admired, from my mother to favorite teachers and writers. I don't remember what I did. I probably didn't do anything, just tried to ignore him. That was the usual strategy when confronted with "teasing."
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