Trapped in a girl’s body
It was one of those lovely Saturday afternoons, when there is no hurry to get anywhere. When one finds herself in an unfamiliar (but unfrightening) territory and has time to explore.
I found this shop that sold cute-quirky blank cards. Together with the cards, they also sold standard text stamps, that said “Thank you”, “Happy Birthday” et cetera.
This swell of feminine thoughtfulness came over me and I thought how lovely it would be to send a loving message in these cards to my friends, especially those overseas. I started thinking about who I could send these cards to. Whether I should stock up on a whole bunch and ration them out through the year (though perhaps a supplementary stamp that said “(belated)” would probably be good…)
Then I snapped out it.
I’m not the sort of girl who puts ribbons in her hair, sends graceful thank you cards, remembers birthdays, or keeps her love letters.
Okay I lie, I do keep the love letters. But everything else is close to impossible.
One day I might have matching linen napkins on the dining table and floral arrangements in the living room, send thoughtful emails to all friends in need, wear pink without feeling like an imposter, or stop slapping the table/random (usually my own) thigh when laughing.
Alas that’s not me. Heels and dresses aside, my sensibilities are really more like a man than a woman. I can be ruthless in relationships, I’m impatient with sensitive nerves and hate being entangled by indecision, and worst, I believe if I were a man, I’d fall in love with me.