On Penislesness and the multifaceted nature of people.

What I wrote while I was busy hating my job.

My dear friend,

My archeological finding this week is kind of special.

I found this notebook from the time I had a job I HATED WITH A PASSION. OH MY GOODNESS. I HATED IT SO MUCH. And this was my work’s little notebook.

You can guess my feelings about that job by seeing the doodles around the pages. I was excruciatingly bored and utterly miserable.

This is one of the oldest notebooks I’ve found in my collection. It was from before I wrote books. Before I worked as a cartoonist in Canada. And even before I did my therapy for social anxiety! So, I wasn’t really talking to people because I believed my English to be super terrible.

In the midst of pages and pages of misery and dread, I found this piece I wrote, almost by accident. Just to distract myself from the boredom of my days.

Are you ready? Ok, here we go (transcription below):

PENISLAND

When I was a little girl, there was only one thing I dreamed about having when I grew up:

- A penis.

Having a No-Penis sounded to me like the most painful and unfair disadvantage.

I couldn’t shoot my pee towards a selected object (I tried. I failed).

I had to pee sitting down.

(I had no idea about all the other feminine disadvantages that would come later in life)

But peeing techniques weren’t the only thing that made me feel this absence.

A penis was like a shiny magical key that could open the doors to Brotherhood.

And me. The penisless girl was there, standing outside of the brotherhood’s treehouse.

I could hear their laughs, I imagined everyone so happy high fiveing each other with their penises, taking group selfies with their penises, playing the game where you sit at a table and see who’s arm is stronger… only instead of their arm, they’d used their penises. Playing swords with their penises.

Oh happy penis land. How I wished I could have been one of those guys.

How I wished I could be with the boys.

But maybe it was just that I loved them so much!

They were nice to me and were always so predictable.

The angry ones were always angry.

The funny ones were always funny.

The mischievous ones were always up to something.

The predictability made me feel at ease.

Girls in my life, in the other hand, used to cause me stress and anxiety.

They seemed to know too much.

They were trying to grow up at a pace I wasn’t comfortable with.

Made me dizzy.

They would hate my guts (and tell me so) one day, and be my best friends weeks after. They would have mood swings and form constellations of like-minded girls. They would change their minds quick after.

In all aspects, I understood the girls I knew. I behaved in the same erratic patterns as they did. I cried and pouted and used my weaknesses as my strength.

When I thought about the treehouse full of sweat and penises. And then I thought about the pink bedroom full of emotional unexpectability, I simply gravitated towards the boys. They made me feel more comfortable.

When I was 14, my alleged best and only girlfriend dumped me, explaining to me that my lack of potential to become popular was affecting hers.

I had never been so alone in my life!

But there was a boy in my school, the only one who had the courage to cross the bridge of uncoolness and gave me the crutch I needed to painfully limp out of my middle school years: A Nirvana CD.

He had a girlfriend, and was around 5 inches shorter than me, so I knew our connection wasn’t sexual.

I felt like he felt my pain and loneliness.

I took this moment as my first imaginary penisless swing towards Brotherhood.

Swing, my imaginary penis, swing.

* shine *

—

NOTE:

- This piece is very old, so, things have changed. These days I actually have close girlfriends and I love them very much! Sisterhood rules! I hope girls reading this won’t feel put down or left out or anything, as this isn’t my intention. I just didn’t get lucky at making girlfriends while growing up. Which is sad because, yeah!! Girls are super awesome!!! It might have taken me decades, but by now, I’m very lucky to have found this out.

NOTE 2:

Since I wrote this piece, I’ve dated several guys 5 inches shorter than me and they were super awesome. So, now I wouldn’t discount a guy who is giving me a Nirvana CD just because of his height!

NOTE 3:

My friend. Just so you know. I really really REALLY struggled trying to decide if I should show you this journal entry or not! I feel like since I became a Children’s Author, I shouldn’t be writing about anything too mature or weird. But then, I gotta remember that my work has historically been a bit weird. As a very multifaceted human and artist, it feels slightly wrong to censor myself. And my books were written as philosophy! I adore children with a passion, and I adore adults too! I feel like my books would help anyone, so I consider my books: Human Books. For any age. And I found this piece so unexpected and funny! I just had to share with you. I hope that’s ok ❤️

NOTE 4:

These days I don’t have that much penis envy anymore. I still love my guy friends, though! I consider myself to have an honorary member to Brotherhood.

NOTE 5:

If you hate your job, take a li’l break here and there and write some of the weird stuff that comes to your mind! It kinda reminds you of who you are. Even while you feel trapped in a situation, your mind is always free. Always.