Boys and Girls
A good friend and I were having a conversation about trans stuff and here is where I landed… I don’t know what it means to grow up a girl or boy. I only know what it feels like to grow up as me.
- I got mad when I started to grow boobs, because it meant I had to start wearing a shirt.
- I wrestled with the boys in the neighborhood. Sometimes, I won.
- I had a plaid taffeta dress that I loved.
- I had a crush on Chachi from Happy Days.
- I was good at sports.
- I liked getting dirty. Or rather, I liked to dig in the dirt.
- I liked shiny things. Sparkles, bedazzles (my sister has one of those things), coins, fake jewels…
- I had a Barbie… the one with the Jeep.
- I liked to draw.
- I made big huge buildings out of my blocks in the middle of the kitchen and forbade anyone from “ruining” them.
- I had a kick-ass Matchbox car collection.
- I liked to have a lemonade stand. Like every single day.
- I dismantled kitchen appliances.
- I read a lot.
- I thought Slip-N-Slide was awesome.
- I refused to wear a pink sweatband that my friend’s dad bought me.
- I kissed my first boy at 11. Not his sister.
- I was strong. A woman in a dress store once called me, “one solid little girl.”
- I loved the dress store.
Did I act like a girl? More like a boy? What does that mean?
