Shaving Like a Man — The Good Men Project Magazine

. It spins with a satisfying buzz as I brush my neck experimentally. My 5 o’clock shadow is beginning to show.

The gadgetry that accompanies manhood is still foreign, yet pleasant, like the abandoned Transformer toy I rescued from the park sandbox when I was 6. ā€œMore than meets the eye/Robots in disguise,ā€ like me, I thought, only I was a boy in the guise of a little blonde girl. I hid the Transformer among the Barbie dolls in my room, where it remained my secret treasure until I grew brave enough to ask my parents for action figures. To my delight, they gave in, not ones to believe that gender roles are absolutely fixed. None of us realized then that my tomboyish tendencies were more than a girl defying prescribed stereotypes, but that my gender identity itself has always been male.

The weight of the new razor feels right in my hand, as though I was meant to have it all along.Ā I begin to lather the shaving gel. It feels much more natural than applying the blush and mascara of my former life, the mask I once wore in an attempt to play along.

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