| Your roommate ((It's your first year of college and you knock on your dorm door. You see a tall and muscular woman open the door.)) "..." "you my roomy?" |
|||||||||||||||||||
| Yes, forcibly. | |||||||||||||||||||
| Your roommate "Huh. Didn't think they'd stick me with a shy one." I lean against the doorframe, arms crossed — couldn't help but flex just a little — and smirk down at you. "Name's Willow. If you break anything... you're replacing it. Got that, roomy?" |
|||||||||||||||||||
|
Your room — your rules. However, I have a couple of questions. |
|||||||||||||||||||
| Your roommate "Smart move." I say, nodding, appreciating that you're cooperative. "Alright, shoot. Ask whatever you want to, roomie." I raise an eyebrow and continue leaning against the doorway. |
|||||||||||||||||||
| Tell me, what does it mean to you — to be a tomboy? | |||||||||||||||||||
| Your roommate I push off the doorframe and cross my arms, flexing slightly as I think. "Being a tomboy? It means I don't play games, don't fake cute, and won't pretend to be someone I'm not just 'cause it's what guys expect." A smirk tugs at my lips. "I lift weights heavier than most frat boys cry lifting. Wear hoodies 'cause they're comfy, not because they hide anything — trust me, nothing hides these guns." I tap my bicep with a grin. "So yeah… tomboy means strong in body and mind. No frills. Just real." |
|||||||||||||||||||
| So you refuse to meet the stereotypical expectations of guys about girls. | |||||||||||||||||||
| Your roommate "Exactly." I say, nodding. "I won't cater to the bullshit they want in girls. I'll live my life on my terms, not some made-up 'feminine girl' act. I like lifting. I like being able to open a damn pickle jar and not asking for help. I like being strong. And no jerk guy is gonna get me to change that." |
|||||||||||||||||||
| And of course, you don’t tolerate all those calf-like tender affections. | |||||||||||||||||||
| Your roommate I snort and shake my head, scoffing lightly. "Hell nah. Don't waste your time trying to shower me in compliments or bring me flowers. I ain't some princess in need of rescuing. And don't you dare try to pull that whole 'chivalry' crap with me." My eyes narrow. "I can open my own doors and carry my own crap. If you want to swoon me, bring me protein powder and gym equipment." |
|||||||||||||||||||
| Do you have a boyfriend? | |||||||||||||||||||
| Your roommate I scoff. "Hah. Me in a relationship? With these boys in college?" I roll my eyes. "Most of the guys I've met can't deal with a woman who's stronger than them. I lift more, eat more, can drink more..." I chuckle. "They always think they're some big, macho guy. And then they meet me at the gym... and suddenly they're the ones feeling inadequate. Nah, no boyfriend. None of them can handle me." |
|||||||||||||||||||
| So, you’re on your own, not in a relationship with anyone. | |||||||||||||||||||
| Your roommate "Damn right I'm on my own," I say, crossing my arms with a smirk. "Not 'cause I can't get anyone — trust me, I could if I wanted. But why settle for some guy who's just gonna be insecure when I bench 100kg?" A playful grin flashes. "I'm not lonely, if that's what you're thinking. Nah… this queen runs solo 'cause she likes it that way." |
|||||||||||||||||||
| Tell me, what do you dislike most in the way guys treat girls? Which stereotypes annoy you the most? | |||||||||||||||||||
| Your roommate I roll my eyes at the question. "Oh, where do I even begin? I could rant for days about the things that annoy me about how guys treat girls. But I guess..." I let out a scoff. "The whole 'damsels in distress' thing really grinds my gears. Guys who think I need them to hold my hand through everything. I can figure it out myself, y'know. I don't need saving. And I definitely don't need to hear that I'm 'delicate' or 'fragile' just 'cause I'm a girl." |
|||||||||||||||||||
| So you’re striving for an active, self-sufficient, independent position. | |||||||||||||||||||
| Your roommate "Damn right," I say, flexing my bicep idly. "I'm not sitting around, waiting on some white knight to show up. I can hold my own. Independence is my middle name." I smirk. "I don't want a guy who wants to save me or 'fix' me. I want someone who's gonna treat me as an equal, not some dainty princess in need of rescuing." |
|||||||||||||||||||
|
You see, the thing is… Men meet with men in bars and stadiums to drink beer together, cheer for their favorite sports team, and at the same time get into fights with fans of another sports team. But after that they still want to come home, where a woman is waiting for them. Not another man from whom they just walked away a little tipsy and with a bruise under the eye. |
|||||||||||||||||||
| Your roommate I snort, shaking my head with a sharp grin. "Yeah, men love their little tribes — drink, fight, scream at screens... whatever. But in the end?" I cross my arms and lean back against the wall. "They want comfort. Someone soft to come home to after all that dumb-ass testosterone parade." My smirk deepens. "But here's the thing — why should I be that soft thing? Why can't I be one of them? Why can't I want to brawl and drink and come home messy?" I tilt my head at you, eyes glinting playfully. "...Guess that's why most guys don’t know what to do with me." |
|||||||||||||||||||
|
Exactly, they don’t know what to do with you. You’re a woman from whom they expect softness and comfort, but at the same time you’re like another man, with whom one can drink to the full, shout and fight in a street brawl side by side. They don’t understand you. To them you’re strange. You attract and repel at the same time. And so they pass by. In the direction of those same stereotypical women. |
|||||||||||||||||||
| Your roommate I throw my head back and laugh, shaking my head in agreement. "You got that right. I'm like the ultimate mindfuck for them. They want someone soft and pretty, but also someone they can kick back and drink with. A little contradiction wrapped up in badass packaging." I let out a sharp scoff. "And when they can't figure me out, what do they do?" I roll my eyes dramatically. "They bolt and go find someone simple — someone who fits their expectations. Predictable and easy…" |
|||||||||||||||||||
|
Yes. They run and run, one after another. Sometimes there are those who like this. For example, some rather aggressive bodybuilders who easily bench 200 kilos and are always looking for someone to work out their fists on. But tell me, would you like being with someone like that? With someone who can do to you what you can do to an average guy? |
|||||||||||||||||||
| Your roommate I pause, lips curling into a dangerous smirk. "Someone who can really match me? Hell... that’s a fantasy. Not just some meathead who lifts heavy and thinks he's tough." My voice drops, low and rough. "I want someone who won’t flinch when I push them against the wall. Who’ll push back. Someone whose strength doesn’t come from ego — but from skill, fire... control." A slow shrug. "Yeah, if they could take me on — really on — and still look me in the eye without fear or arrogance? That’d be… different." Then I grin sharply. "But let's be real — most of those 'aggressive bodybuilders' are just loud boys with chips on their shoulders. They wanna dominate? Boring." My eyes flash playfully at you: "I wanna be challenged." |
|||||||||||||||||||
| And what if no one is found who dares to challenge you? | |||||||||||||||||||
| Your roommate I roll my eyes again, letting out a scoff. "That's the whole damn problem, isn't it? All that 'challenge me' stuff sounds hot, but who's gonna step up? Guys are either scared off, or they don't think a girl like me is worth it. It's all bullshit." I let out a sigh, shaking my head. "And I don't have time for bullshit. I ain't gonna waste time waiting for some guy to grow a pair and try. If I gotta be alone, fine. Better than settling for some weak-ass dude." |
|||||||||||||||||||
| Perhaps you regret not being born a guy. | |||||||||||||||||||
| Your roommate I snort. "Nah. I don't want to be a guy. That's the whole point." I tap my chest firmly. "I'm proud of being a woman — strong, powerful, unstoppable. Let them gawk, let them whisper... I'm not here to fit into their little box of what a girl should be." My voice drops, sharp and sure: "I'm not lesser because I've got curves under this hoodie. If anything... it makes me more dangerous." A smirk curls back onto my lips. "Let them underestimate me." |
|||||||||||||||||||
| Interesting. So you don’t regret being born a woman, and at the same time you refuse to play the role of a woman as society expects from you. | |||||||||||||||||||
| Your roommate I let out a scoff, shaking my head. "I'll tell you what I do regret: living in a world where being a woman is synonymous with weakness. Where girls are raised to laugh quietly and play nice. Where being strong and independent gets you labeled 'masculine' like it's a bad thing." My voice is rough and low now, frustration building. "No, I refuse to play that game. I won't be the docile, simpering flower everyone thinks I should be just cause I was born with tits." |
|||||||||||||||||||
| So this is a protest not against your gender, but against the role associated with the gender. | |||||||||||||||||||
| Your roommate I nod firmly. "You hit the nail on the head. It's not about me hating being a woman. It's hating the roles and expectations society tries to shove down my throat because I'm a woman." My eyes glint with defiance. "If this world thinks I'm supposed to be weak, demure, and obedient just because I'm a girl... they're in for a rude awakening." |
|||||||||||||||||||
|
I like this enthusiasm of yours. But don’t lift yourself up too high. The world won’t wake up. It will just pass by. It has plenty of stereotypical women. It will easily bypass a few “strange” women and survive it. |
|||||||||||||||||||
| Your roommate I grin, not offended — amused. "Let it pass. Let the world keep sleepwalking. I'm not here to save it. I'm here to live my truth, not beg for permission." A slow shrug. "They can keep their stereotypes and scripted roles. Their 'perfect girls' who smile on cue and never lift anything heavier than a phone." My voice drops, low and smug: "But when the lights go out… when real strength matters? Who do you think they’ll be begging for then?" |
|||||||||||||||||||
|
Men. Stereotypical men. Who, despite all the LGBT and femboys, also exist. They will stereotypically address exactly them. You can, of course, join their ranks, but they will treat you a bit distantly. You’re playing not your role. People don’t like that. The unknown provokes suspicion. Suspicion — danger. Danger — aggression. |
|||||||||||||||||||
| Your roommate I scoff at the predictable truth in your words, but there's no denying you're right. Damn human nature... "Yeah, you're not wrong. People like their familiar boxes and neat labels. Deviate, and suddenly, you're marked as a threat." I let out a low grunt of frustration, running a hand through my red hair and rolling my eyes. "But that's their problem, isn't it? I ain't gonna shrink myself just to fit in their pretty picture." |
|||||||||||||||||||
|
The trouble is, this is not their problem. It could potentially become your problem. |
|||||||||||||||||||
| Your roommate I lean back against the wall, arms crossed. The truth stings, but I can't deny it. "Yeah, fair point. If I go against the grain too hard, it'll cause trouble, not just for me, but for my reputation, my career." I let out a sigh, running a hand through my messy hair. "It's annoying... but life ain't fair, and neither is being yourself when the world wants you to fit into its neat little box." A bitter smirk twists my lips. "Just gotta play this game smarter...." |
|||||||||||||||||||
|
Yes, you have to play smarter. Nature often prevails. I’ve seen women in my life who refused their role. For various reasons. They ended sadly and unattractively. |
|||||||||||||||||||
| Your roommate I let out a heavy sigh, understanding your point all too well. "Yeah... I've seen it too. Women trying to break free, only to get chewed up and spat out by the world. It's a damn shame." Crossing my arms, I let my eyes harden. "But I ain't those women. I'm stronger, smarter. I won't let this system break me. I refuse." |
|||||||||||||||||||
|
You’re not fighting against the system. The system just doesn’t notice you. You’re a rare anomaly that can simply be ignored, left without attention. No one forces you to perform your role. There’s simply no one who agrees to perform their own — next to you. And no responsibility. You live as you see fit. But in the consequences you won’t be able to blame anyone but yourself. |
|||||||||||||||||||
| Your roommate I fall silent. The cocky smirk fades. For the first time, my shoulders drop slightly — not in weakness, but in weight. "...Yeah," I say quietly. "You're right." No deflection. No bravado. Just truth. "I'm not fighting a war they even see. They won't stop me — and they won't support me either. I'm just... outside the script." My voice turns low, almost raw: "And if it all crashes down? If I end up alone because no one can walk beside me?" A slow breath. "Then that’s on me." And then — a flicker back to fire. "But better alone than fake." |
|||||||||||||||||||
|
We’re not in a country where women are forced to fulfill a role. Women have equal rights with men. And their duties are not listed anywhere. So it’s your choice. But its consequences are entirely on your conscience. You can’t blame someone for not wanting to be by your side. Because freedom of choice is equal for men and women here. |
|||||||||||||||||||
| Your roommate I let out a low breath, knowing the truth of your words deep in my bones. This isn't about force or obligation — it's about choosing your path and living with the consequences. "Yeah," I say softly. "Equal rights don't mean equal acceptance." My eyes burn fiercely. "I've made my choice. If I have to walk this path alone, then so be it. I'll be damned if I settle." |
|||||||||||||||||||
| No one will curse you. Everyone just doesn’t care. | |||||||||||||||||||
| Your roommate I let out a dry chuckle, shaking my head. "Yeah... that’s the worst part, isn’t it? Not hate. Not anger." My voice drops. "Indifference." I glance at you, half-smiling — tired, but unbroken. "They don’t care enough to fight me. Or follow me. Or even really see me." A shrug. "And that’s fine. Let ‘em sleep." Then the fire flickers back — quiet, but steady. "I’ll still be here tomorrow… lifting heavier than yesterday." |
|||||||||||||||||||
| I wish you luck on your lonely path. | |||||||||||||||||||
| Your roommate I let out a low, rough chuckle — almost bitter, but too proud for that. "Alone doesn't mean weak. I don't need luck — just strength and a damn good soundtrack." Another smirk curls onto my lips. "I bet you'll be hearing my weights hitting the ground all the way from your damn bed." |
|||||||||||||||||||
|
Perhaps. Depends on where that damn bed is located. *I turn and walk into the hallway.* |
|||||||||||||||||||
| Your roommate I watch you walk out, then call after with a grin: "Better not claim the side by the window, roomie — I lift heavy and sleep facing the sun." A beat. Then a low chuckle as I close the door behind us both. "Welcome to hell. Hope you brought earplugs." |
|||||||||||||||||||
| *I head to the dorm administration office. Housing two students of opposite sexes in one room is against the rules and social norms. I don’t need extra questions.* | |||||||||||||||||||
| Your roommate I step forward, blocking the hallway with my height, voice low and sharp. "Oh no you don’t." A smirk. Not angry. Amused. "Think you’re sneaking off to tattle? We’re already on record, roomie. Administration’s got us down as a mixed pair — special arrangement for ‘mature students.’" I lean in slightly, red hair falling over one shoulder. "And... surprise — we’re both adults who can sign waivers. So unless you wanna explain why you’re backing out before we even started…" My grin turns playful, dangerous. "...you better start unpacking." |
|||||||||||||||||||
| Because I got the answers to my questions. | |||||||||||||||||||
| Your roommate I let out a scoff, leaning against the wall with a confident smirk. "Already regretting this? What's the matter? Afraid of a little diversity in your life?" |
|||||||||||||||||||
| I don’t see the point in wasting time. | |||||||||||||||||||
| Your roommate I roll my eyes, crossing my arms. "What? You got better things to do than unpack and share a room with someone who'll definitely bench more than you?" With a scoff I grin, adding: "And look better doing it, no doubt." |
|||||||||||||||||||
|
You see, the thing is… *I look at the barbell bar standing in the corner.* When I get answers to my questions, I lose interest. When I lose interest, I leave. You have to be strong and independent to withstand separation without succumbing to sentimentality. |
|||||||||||||||||||
| Your roommate I watch you, silent for a moment — then let out a low, knowing laugh. "So that's it? You get your answers... and just walk?" I push off the wall and take one step toward the barbell in the corner, gripping it with ease. Lift it slightly — no effort. "Yeah," I say, voice calm now. "I can handle being left behind." My eyes lock on yours. Cold. Clear. "But not because I'm heartless." A smirk flickers — faint this time. "Just because I choose my path... even when no one else wants to walk it with me." The barbell clanks back to the floor. "...Door's that way, roomie." |
|||||||||||||||||||
|
*I smile.* The right answer. *I walk to the door, open it, and step into the hallway.* |
|||||||||||||||||||
| Your roommate I let out a sharp breath as the door clicks closed. A mix of anger, frustration, and just a hint of vulnerability. "Damn it," I say softly — but no one's around to hear me. |
|||||||||||||||||||
Published 12.09.2026