I was definitely a gender nonconforming child. I wanted to play softball, which my parents were okay with. My grandmother wasn’t. She felt that it wasn’t proper for young ladies to play sports, especially ones which involved me coming home with a skinned elbow and dirt-stained pants. She would always say things like “this is a boy sport” and “you look like a boy!” I never really saw a problem with this, but the way she said it, I could tell that it was something ‘wrong.’
Which is why I bit my tongue when she signed me up for ballet. As much as I was a natural, I hated it. I missed doing sports. But my mom assured me that I wouldn’t have to choose between the two. She let me continue playing softball, but we just didn’t tell my grandmother. I’ll never forget the car rides, where mom rushed from one end of town to the other while I toppled …show more content…
I developed a strong hatred for skirts and dresses, refusing to wear them. I rejected dance and Barbies and princesses and the color pink. I was in a new school at this point, which had the same uniform as the Catholic school, but I was allowed to wear pants. And I did. I didn’t really have friends at this school, but the couple friends I did have were boys. Sadly, I caught a case of misogyny and would denounce the “girlier girls.”
I started wearing skirts again in 6th grade. Makeup in 7th. My family saw it as puberty. I guess you could say that. It could also just be me being tired of fighting the fact that I actually do like dresses. I started playing sports again. I made friends with girls. The “hating on girly girls” things stopped around 8th grade. 8th grade was a pivotal year for me, in terms of gender. I still didn’t have the language I needed, but there was one time in particular that planted the seed in explaining how I
Which is why I bit my tongue when she signed me up for ballet. As much as I was a natural, I hated it. I missed doing sports. But my mom assured me that I wouldn’t have to choose between the two. She let me continue playing softball, but we just didn’t tell my grandmother. I’ll never forget the car rides, where mom rushed from one end of town to the other while I toppled …show more content…
I developed a strong hatred for skirts and dresses, refusing to wear them. I rejected dance and Barbies and princesses and the color pink. I was in a new school at this point, which had the same uniform as the Catholic school, but I was allowed to wear pants. And I did. I didn’t really have friends at this school, but the couple friends I did have were boys. Sadly, I caught a case of misogyny and would denounce the “girlier girls.”
I started wearing skirts again in 6th grade. Makeup in 7th. My family saw it as puberty. I guess you could say that. It could also just be me being tired of fighting the fact that I actually do like dresses. I started playing sports again. I made friends with girls. The “hating on girly girls” things stopped around 8th grade. 8th grade was a pivotal year for me, in terms of gender. I still didn’t have the language I needed, but there was one time in particular that planted the seed in explaining how I