Just one of the guys

Strangely enough though, I liked it. I didn't mind hanging out with the guys and even being treated as one of them, because, it was fun whilst it lasted. Although, I thought I was on equal terms as the other guys, there were times when they were found out, because they tended to be quite protective of me, so much so, that I never missed having an elder brother. Heck, I had like 10!

Ever wondered how far into your life a tag like ‘one of the guys’ can remain with you? A long time, believe you me. Take it from someone who's spent 18 years of her life being treated like one of the guys. Don't get me wrong, I loved every moment of it, but it was (I mean is) quite a novel experience still.

It all began when I was about six-years-old, playing with my favourite cousin cum partner-in-crime, in my grandmothers garden. We played tag, climbed trees, fell down (sometimes off the trees too), muddied our hands, feet, faces and clothes, screamed and shouted and I guess you know the basic drill. Of course, this could be put down to plain ole typically 'Tom Boyish' behaviour right? "I'm sure she'll grow out of it soon," I heard my aunts and uncles tell my mum, when I was 6, then 10, 13, 15… something was obviously wrong now, right?

Wrong. I was a perfectly normal (in my opinion), healthy girl full of energy and life. Could I help it that my first toy was a gun and little plastic soldiers? It's not that I had an aversion to 'Barbies' or the random stereotypical 'girlish' toy, it's just that they didn't interest me much. I used to play with my cousin and his friends almost weekly and had no problem with modelling a whole range of new scars on quite a regular basis. I was quite proud of them in fact, because it was a constant reminder of the various antics I had partaken in to obtain them.

A crucial point in my life was the time I was 're-christened' from my birth name to one that my cousin and eventually his friends and much later on even those very same aunts and uncles too, thought was more apt for me. From the age of around 10 or 12 I was re-named 'Morris'. Except for sharing a few letters from my real name, this name had no resemblance to my birth name, but it caught on alright… like wild fire!

Up-to-date, the majority of my cousins' friends and of course the founder himself call me by this nickname, which their efforts alone helped make famous. How it spread was, when they kept using it in public, more and more of my friends who hadn't heard of this nickname, took to it with glee, reaffirming my cousins belief of it being more appropriate for me. It was sheer bliss… NOT.
This was all relatively bearable until we progressed to the stage of ‘too much information.’ I kid you not when I say that I was treated like one of the guys, I really mean it. For them, the concept of my being of the opposite sex held no bearing. In their eyes, I was no different to any one of them. Not that I was complaining of course, because I was 'in' on many a guy secret but at the same time came to discover one too many details about their biological mechanisms, if you get my drift?

There was even one instance where one of the guys came out of the bathroom and started stripping in the room, intending to change his clothes I presumed. However, when another one of my friends (also male) who was fighting the lone battle of not letting my difference of gender go unnoticed, pointed out to him that he should be a bit more discreet as there was in fact a 'girl' in the room. He simply looked around and said "who?" I'm telling you, it was at such a level of conviction that I was one of them, that existed at the time. It was no joke.

Strangely enough though, I liked it. I didn't mind hanging out with the guys and even being treated as one of them, because, it was fun while it lasted. Although, I thought I was on equal terms as the other guys, there were times when they were found out, because they tended to be quite protective of me, so much so, that I never missed having an elder brother. Heck, I had like 10!

So, this situation lasted for a good 10-12 years, until one fine day, each went their own way and the inevitable happened. The 'gang' split up. No ill feelings or grudges were held, it was just a part of the general scheme of things. Everyone had left school, some went abroad, some lost touch, some were very busy with work, studies etc., but, whenever we met… I was still "Morris" and they were still the guys.

Happy with the cherished memories of the past I set forth into what I thought would be the beginning of a new era of sorts, only to find myself back at square one. I find myself at a friends house with a new found set of male friends, singing, cracking jokes, talking about 'hot' girls and fast cars.
And so goes the story of my life…