To My Unborn Son (Part Four)

I’m going to level with you, son.  You’re going to take a lot of flak in your life just because you’re a boy.  You’re going to hear an awful lot of nonsense about “guy things,” most of it silly, some of it down right insulting, and almost all of it from people who should really know better.

Now, girls still frequently take flak for “being girls” too, I’m sorry to say, but it’s not really widely acceptable to demonstrate one’s ignorance by talking like that anymore.  Unfortunately, accusing a boy of the “crime” of being a boy is still so common that I know full well most people that do it aren’t actively trying to demonstrate their ignorance — most of the time they’re usually just trying to be funny.  You get used to it.

Mostly.  (I never managed more than mostly, at least.  Perhaps you’ll be able to do me one better in that regard.)

And though I am guilty of overreacting (or wanting to, at least) to what is for all intents and purposes, comparatively benign stupidity, I have found that I react all the stronger when people start trying to give you grief for your gender, particularly when you haven’t even been born yet.  They’d know better to try and do that  to you if you were a girl, but it seems I’m going to have to “educate” a number of people over the course of your lifetime.  (And that is the main reason why you being a boy is going to be the harder path for me — but it’ll be worth it, every minute of it.)

You’re a boy, son.  That’s a good thing, and neither a crime nor a shortcoming.  Girls aren’t better than you any more than you’re better than them.  Boys and girls are just . . . different, and usually not as different as most people think, but they are different in some really important ways that needn’t really concern you until you start dating.

But that’s a topic for another time.


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