Gender Envy
He was punk, wearing leather gloves and a jacket covered in patches. She didn’t do ballet anymore, but her immediate love of his whole aesthetic could not have been more obvious. Dove was struggling with something she would need more time to understand, but in the moment sheer adoration was the best she could muster.
She wanted the rocker look, the leather and the spikes, the confidence and presents that he radiated. Was he really that perfect? No, looking back Deven knew that little him was off by a few miles from the class we worked for. He had been scruffy, rough around the edges and in from them. But he was unlocking just what he had been missing at the time, he had been the pinnacle of masculine that he wanted but couldn't understand. The best he could do was score the dates he had.
Dove had dated him, Jonathan? Just John? It had been almost 15 years so Deven didn’t really remember him all to well. He did know his face though, and the shock of seeing his only ex at a concert was electric. It was seeing someone he loved once upon a time, but it hadn’t really been Deven, and he could see some new maturity in his gender idol. Deven was twice as old as he had been the last time they had met, and when they had it was more or less just a passing acknowledgement. He had become what little him wanted, the handsome man with a musical career and money, respect, class, and confidence. He had a beautiful fiancé too, and she was more amazing than his teen self could fathom.
It was exciting to actually recognize how much he liked himself, and Deven looked over himself in the mirror before bed. the scars which created the body he loved, the tattoos and piercings that made the superstar aura radiate in dressing rooms. He worked hard to have this self-love, and the gender envy he had felt so long ago was what he saw in the mirror. What he wanted to be was who he was now, and the pride he took in that was what he loved the most in his reflection.
