Entry 1: Memoir Momens

August 3rd, 2015: Salt Lake City, UTAH

I reminisce over this day, my old casually-constructed identity, and a coat I almost inherited before my brother snatched it back. I miss that coat badly, a coat I’ve never even worn.  

Sometimes we miss the things we don’t know. Sometimes we long for that which we WISH we knew or had, but don’t. Nostalgia for some anticipatory abstraction of a feeling. The desire to know it beats even the desire to own it. I crave it. A solitary black coat, so outwardly masculine like my new identity...stoic, mysterious, gallant and dark. Is this to be my karma? And like that is it apparently not, as my brother swooped it right up and onto his own masculine-read body. 

I feel I dodged a bullet; from the antics of this heteronormative imprisonment of masculinity. This “flavor” of “Man” that is so sexy to me. I want to wear it, smell of it, be it. That is, until I sense the stench of death that floats all around it. Death of spirit, a spirit starved, carved out, empty sacks of forgotten children, masquerading as big ol Men.  

I will perhaps wonder for a long time whether the predicament of Mr.Straight White Man is an awkward consequence of biology or socialization. How much of both if it’s both? Why do the majority of Mr.SWM’s seem to occupy a both garishly fearful and arrogant space where no one can win? Why is their definition of success about stomping on the face of their neighbor? And with the innards of such cowardice and fragility? Held and coddled by their sad and patient wives or girlfriends, mistresses or secret boyfriends. And why? And how? Seriously! 

It is disturbingly obvious to me. Mr.SWM’s adherence to a common life of servitude to a false sense of Mask-ulinity. This zealous service to a fictional God of Manhood that presses them for violence, violence, violence as the Best and Only form of communication. Or if not the only form, the best choice to use when threatened, or when the people around you may be forgetful of how Manly one indeed is, no question.  

This sick instruction affects all men! Men of all shades, and all who were raised as Men even if they very much are not! This means you TransMan, TwoSpiritMan, GenderfuckedMan, Manless Man, Aeon-sometimes-Man.......like me. This means you, Me. This means you.    
Here’s to rejecting the rulebook and schooling myself in the art of Queer Feminine Masculinity.