I sat in my chair watching this man in action. Confused and torn while observing his mannerisms, I was stricken by my ambivalence. Did I want to be this man or did I simply just want him?
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| No, this is not the man.. |
Freud has often talked about the whole concept of penis envy but I had never really felt this way before. I’ve always felt very comfortable, powerful and strong as a woman, but watching this man while he spoke to a small group made me wonder what it would be like to be him.
I fantasized about getting ready for work, buttoning my shirt, while staring at my reflection, deciding what color tie to wear: the red or the gold. I thought about what it might be like to decide what my look was going to be: whether I’d sport a sexy stubble, clean cut shave or a manly beard.
When I was a little girl I would wake up every morning at 4:30 a.m. as my father’s alarm went off. While he was getting ready I would crawl in bed with my mother and watch him as he put on a freshly pressed white shirt and sprayed on his cologne. He would leave for work and I’d fall asleep in his place, the smell of cologne lingering in the room.
Fast forward twenty-one years later and I’m staring at this beautiful man wondering about his choice of cufflinks and what kind of underwear he prefers. I thought about his morning routine, what his aftershave smells like, what washing his flat chest feels like, what thoughts swirl in his mind as he walks down the street…
It was more than a simple attraction. I wanted to see everything through his eyes, I wanted to be in his body and feel what it’s like to sacrifice my breasts and womb space for an external life force I don’t possess.
Has anyone else ever felt this way about the opposite sex?
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