Phase 1: The Anatomy.

If one morning I woke up and was a man, but with my brain, what would I do?

Phase 1: The Anatomy.

First off, I’d probably wake up with an erection. Oh Cool! Now I get to wack off! I’ve never wacked off before, so it’ll take me a few times to figure out what I’m doing. I’ll try ┬áthinking about girls as I do it. Ew. Vaginas? Not really my cup of tea… wait, though. I’m feeling surges of testosterone and urges I’ve never felt to be inside something… huh. I GET IT! Oh my god! I GET IT! I want to screw every girl that walks in front of me! I want to have sex with them! I must do that today.

I wake up and look at myself in the mirror. No boobs. My chest feels lighter. No hips! My hair is so short! I scratch my chin and feel gristle. At first I panic. Oh my god, my face feels so rough and scratchy! I’m a beast! And I have some hair on my chest, too. Not really on my back, but my legs are covered in hair as well. Again, I have to fight another panic attack about my furriness. Am I kidding? I’m a guy, this shit is sexy, dammit!

After not having any dilemma about what to put on for clothing (this shirt’s clean-ish, and I’ll wear these jeans). Nor having to put on any makeup (just splashing my face with some water) I try to pee. FUN!! I get to try and aim for the bowl! Guys have all the fun, I can stand up, awkwardly whip out my junk, and pee. I laugh as I try and get my crotch ready to unleash. HAHA That’s a penis. It’s so funny looking. I never have to look at my vag, it’s always just… under┬áthere. This thing, however is right out and flopping around like a wet noodle.

I’m hungry! In fact, I have a voracious appetite. I feel like I can eat a whole pig worth of bacon and follow that up with a hen house full of eggs. I walk into the kitchen. WOAH! This thing between my legs, like, flops a little when I walk! It’s like, OUT THERE! HAHA! I stand still for a moment and wiggle my hips, feeling the weight of my crotch move. I check to see if anyone is around and then try a windmill. Sick. I jump up and down. No boobs to painfully bounce! Men have all the luck, even the absence of a bra feels like freedom. Nothing tight around my chest.

I scrounge up breakfast quickly and sit down to eat. Funny, as I eat: I just, eat. I’m shocked. Where are all the thoughts about why my friend didn’t call me last night when she said she would and why I’m gonna be really pissed at her the next time I see her? No thoughts. Just: food. I get excited when I realize I’m not thinking and I hit my hand to the table top in celebration. I underestimate my strength and my plate of half finished breakfast flops right into my lap. PAIN!!!!!! PAIN!!!! Seething, deep, untouchably awful PAIN. Oh my god! When guys get hit in the balls it is NOT FUNNY. OH GOD it HURTS! I don’t know what to do! I don’t want to move! I just want to curl into a ball and lie on the floor for a while. So I do. I hope all my future children didn’t just get crunched in that moment of idiocy.

Ten minuts later I am ready to move again. I’m not hungry anymore. I want to get outside! I want to discover the world as it is through a man’s eyes! I check myself in the mirror before stepping out. I’m tall. I’m white. I’m a guy. I’m college educated. I’m an actor (can’t wait to see how that changes things for me now that I’m a dude.) I’m good looking (If I were me again, well, me with a female anatomy, and I saw me as a guy walking down the street, but like, it wasn’t me, it was some other guy I’ve never met, I’d TOTALLY do me.) I take a deep breath, feel the residual pain in my balls (ouch.) and walk outside.

To be continued.

April 10, 2013 at 2:47 pm by Natalie Allen