Man, I (don't) Feel Like a Woman

Over the past year, I've come to the stark realization that if I were in a committed relationship with another woman, I would definitely be considered the man. This is probably not a surprising disclosure to many, seeing as my hair is generally shorter than most men's and I tend to dress in oversized T-shirts and haven't worn heels since platform sneakers were all the rage in 8th grade. Still, the true obviousness of my (heterosexual) butchness has really come to my attention since being in Alaska.

In Hawaii I spent most of my time with Lindsay. I think we look equally gay, so it was probably hard to really tell who wore the "pants" in our pseudo-relationship, if you know what I mean. In fact, we'd sometimes playfully argue over who people generally assumed was the guy of our relationship. Here in Alaska, my femininity is contrasted against the embodiment of 'woman': Tawny Catudal.

Each day, Tawny, Teya, Eden, Harper and I take small adventures around anchorage in search of fun things to do. So far, I've been referred to as "sir" once, followed by a sincere compliment of what a beautiful family I have, obviously implying that i was the father of Harper, Teya and baby Eden. Seeing as this comment came from a 70 year old Chuck E. Cheese employee, I pawned the remark off on poor elderly sight and/or dementia. It was only days later that the true nature of said remark became overt and undeniable.

Tawny and I were taking the kids to Bouncin' Bear, an Alaskan indoor inflatable playground. The young lady working the cash gave Tawny and I a good look, then asked me to sign the waiver as the legal guardian of our apparently 'modern family'. Then the cashier told us that siblings receive discounted admission, so Harper and Teya's entrance fee would be reduced. Ok, point taken. If I'm not mistaken for a man, I'm at the very least considered to be the father-figure in a same-sex parenthood.

Our image of being a progressive family unit is not helped by the fact that Harper consistently refers to both me and Tawny as "mommy". Harper absolutely adores Tawny. When Harper sees her for the first time each day, she lets out an excited squeal, holds out her arms and says "MOMMY!!!" And, being the nurturing, loving, quintessential mother figure that Tawny is, she smothers Harper in kisses saying "oh, my baby!" This greeting, when performed in public, only furthers the notion that we are in fact both the mothers of three beautiful girls.

Not that Tawny and I are ashamed of this image. Actually, we kind of bask in it. Hey, if it gets sibling discounts for the kids and stops men from hitting on us (ok, who am I kidding- stops men from hitting on Tawny), then we're all for it.

"Oh, what a lovely woman and her child..."



"...And look at the father. Not wait-is she a girl or a boy? No, not the baby. The baby is obviously a girl. I mean that mother-or is it the father? Oh well, cute kid, at any rate..."