I am not a feminist.
Nor do I make statements.
I like men; sometimes more than women.
I like women; sometimes more than men.
But most times; both are equally fascinating.
Exploring my own femininity; seems only fitting, as I was and still am a woman last time I checked. Yet observing men; how they dress comfortably/sensibly for the weather, eat what they want, go after what they desire and generally just ‘get on with it’ better, to me, seems sensible. If not extremely logical. Simple and smart. Stressing about boobs slipping from cold chicken fillets, or having to wear Band-Aids because shoes are a nightmare, never become an issue for the man. This is quite a biased view, but men seem far more relaxed about life.
After a few years awkwardly trying to be a tip-top gal myself. I gave up due to the fact I felt like a fraud and instead decided in favour of pro-comfort. A form of activism, true to my heart. Intergrading a few life pointers observed via the male species, which looked to provide a higher-ratio of level headed sanity for woman-living. Although behaving not so ‘girly’ does see a drop off in male attention; for breeding purposes. Leaving the animal arena behind with its raging hormones. Genitals left in the ring of the subconscious. Opting for less interaction, but high quality conversation. Giving the brain profound electrical stimulus it needs yet so often lacks. Sometimes, men may even start talking about buffalo grass; if your lucky.
I’ll happily move over and give the ladies who want to be eye-candy more of a chance, whilst in turn providing men with a smaller surface area to hunt. Who am I to judge, I didn’t say I wasn’t humanist.