Look Like A Woman, Love Like A Man

Believe me when I say I'm all woman. I've even got the childbearing hips to prove it (although my birthing parts have been decommissioned). There's not a boyish bone in my body (well, you know, sometimes there is a certain boy's bone in my body, but we won't go there... this is a PG-rated journal). I've never felt the need to play softball, drink beer with the guys, shave my face or kiss a girl.

No, I'm all woman. Except when it comes to love. Or at least, that's what I've been told.

See, I think I'm as romantic as the next woman. But in all honesty, I'm not. Sure, I like wine and roses. Stays at bed & breakfasts. Romantic, candlelit dinners. But when it comes to nurturing a relationship, I fall flat on my girlish ass.

Problem: hunky has noticed this. All too often.

He accuses me of being the man in the relationship. He says I have a man's outlook on love. When I asked him to explain what the hell that meant, he said that I'm not nurturing. That I don't like all the cuddling and wooing and physical displays of affection. He also said that I take the relationship for granted... something more often associated with men than women.

He might be right.

Oh, not about the taking the relationship for granted thing. But yeah, I'm not much into nurturing. Never have been, hence the decommissioning of the birthing parts. And physical displays of affection, like sitting in his lap, holding his hand, sticking my hands in his back pocket while we walk in the mall? So not me.

Well. I do hold his hand. Willingly, in fact. But, as he has pointed out time and time again, I rarely reach for him first. And... he swears that's a guy thing.

Then I guess it's a good thing he's the girl in the relationship, huh, otherwise we'd be a gay couple parading around in our rainbow shirts, looking for an apartment in San Francisco.

Not that there's anything wrong with that.