Don't ask. Just don't.

I've been a member of a "men with breasts" list for a while.  I joined when I was thinking that it might be nice to join those ranks.  I'm still uncertain, but that's another post altogether.  Many members talk about how large their breasts are, and how they got them that way.  They also talk about comfort levels at showing them off, wearing bras to hide or expose them as they prefer.

They also mention that "no-one notices."

Yes They Do.

What they don't do is mention it to you.

From an early age, we're told not to stare at the man in the wheelchair/goth girl/guy with colourful tattoos/woman in burqa/man with mohawk/woman with mohawk/etc.  "It's rude," we're told.  And we're certainly discouraged from asking about any differences we notice.

Frankly, I believe that discussing differences is a way of understanding those differences.  But I still Don't Ask.

Everybody's different, everyone reacts differently.  People notice people who don't fit the norm, except when they don't notice.  Many people don't expect to see breasts on a man (for example) but some notice everything.  They look at you, they shake your hand, they make eye contact, they greet you, and say nothing.  To you.  Later, they say to their friend/coworker "did you see the boobs on Fred?"  Their friend may not have noticed.  But they'll notice next time.

And they'll say nothing.

We learned not to talk about differences.
This never happens:

A man is drinking at a bar, and he strikes up a conversation with the guy next to him, who happens to be a pirate.

He says "I hope you don't mind my asking, but I notice you have a peg leg.  May I ask how you lost your leg?"

The pirate says "During a raging storm I was thrown overboard and a shark took off my leg.  I was lucky to be alive."

The man says "wow.  So, what's the story behind the hook?"

The pirate says "we had a fierce battle on deck.  While I was engaged with one man another came up behind me with a scimitar and took my hand clean off."
 

The man is amazed and says "how about the eye patch?  How did you lose your eye?"
 

The pirate says "a bird pooped in it."
 

The man looks surprised and says "how did you lose an eye from bird poop?"
 

The pirate says "well, it was my first day with the hook."
We don't ask the pirate on the next stool what happened, even if he'd love to talk about it.  Look at it from a child's point of view.  Many people would be happy to enlighten a child as to why they're wearing a turban or sari.  Maybe there's a wondrous story behind the tattoo or a war story behind the wheelchair.


I had a friend who had hair she could sit on.  When I commented on her beautiful hair, she told me that her brother, who died in a car accident a few years earlier, loved her long hair and she promised him she wouldn't cut it.  But a third party would think me rude, even if I said to her "your hair is magnificent!  Why do you let it grow so long?"

I'm not sure I'd like someone to ask me about my tights or ring or bracelet or flowery socks.  I'm on the "don't care" cusp, I think.  But without a story (and I have one for the bracelet that's not really a story), it's hard to get around.  And I think right now I'm comfortable with "I like femme things and I wear them when I have the chance."

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