When using TLAs (Three Letter Acronyms), can we please call them out for what they mean in context? GNC, to me, indicated "General Nutrition Center" which was at one point in my lifetime a purveyor of "health food" and "supplements". It took several moments to sink in that the thrust was "Gender Non-Conforming" which in my world is a BS (Bull Sh!t) notion.
I was raised by my grand-parents who were born in the very early 20th Century, and they were the product of 19th Century parents. Hence, I am using a very different sense of "masculinity" than is currently expected -- which, to my mind, is entirely machismo and zero masculinity. Machismo is all about bluster, posing, and posturing -- and precisely nothing about "being a man". It's about being a parody -- and a bad one at that -- of being a man. It's entirely pernicious.
So, yes, I have a very different outlook on things than most of the modern set. I have a masculinity rather firmly set in the late 1800s, and am quite happy with it, thank you very much. It allows me vast ranges of expressivity, whether that be with my range of emotions (I have the full range available, unlike modern "men"), the range of my senses of style (I have many), or the range of how I present myself (I present as masculine with an "odd" sense of style). Overall, the effect on observers is that I'm a slightly bewildered time-traveller that has landed in an alien time and cannot escape.
The notion of "The Man Card" needs to be shredded at the earliest convenience as it's a primary driver towards the pathetic parody that is machismo. Shred it, burn the remains, then dissolve the ashes in a basic solution to physically remove what's left. It. Needs. To. Go.
I still recall one hilarious evening at my local when I showed up in a dress with my computer so I could interrogate the local LAN for usability. A couple of the guys at the table made remarks about my "murse". I told them that, "No, that's my laptop bag.", after which the observation was repeated. Unphased, but slightly annoyed, I responded with, "No. That's my laptop bag. This is my purse.", producing the clutch I'd brought along because my dress had no pockets.
My "man card" is quite intact. It's just one that was issued over a century and a half ago. It also gives me vastly more license than the ones granted recently which amount to death-sentences.
