Memories……

rolling my socks down so they made little bands around my ankles, thinking how pretty it was and how like all the little girls it was….. age 3ish….. already knew to hide what I was doing

school uniform, shirt and shorts for the boys in the summer, blouse and skirt for the girls, shorts the same length as the skirts. I’d hold my legs together tight and hold the edges of the shorts out as far as I could and pretended that it was a skirt….. age 5ish

realizing how pretty the girls’ shoes were, and how ugly mine were, thus cementing my life long hatred of men’s shoes…. age 5

raiding my mothers closet and playing dressup, whole thing, hose and slip, dress, shawl, hat, makeup, jewlerry. Get caught by mother who at first thinks its funny, shows my father who growls at me to take it off immediately, scares my mom, never spoken of again….. age 6

not wanting to change for swimming class with the boys, something about it felt wrong, changed with the girls for half a year, in those days and where I lived, no one was getting sued or freaking out over that…. age 7-8

never felt comfortable changing with other men….. age, always

pictures of me and my childhood friends, all girls

parents yelling at me telling me to spend more time with boys instead of all the girls I hung out with, mother whispering to me ‘your father is scared of you turning into a homosexual’, I ask her what that is, she shushes me and says later….. age 11-12?

“fucking queers, they should all be put to death”, my father mutters as the first flamboyantly gay guy I’ve seen in my life walks by us on the street….. age 12

“you want a dress to go with your long hair you little girly boy”…… actually, yes dad, yes I do….. I never had the guts to say that back to him…. age 11 to 15

dreaming of being female…. waking up so happy, so unbearably happy, then looking at my body and realizing it was all a dream…. age …. puberty, 10 to 16

lots of drinking and drugs…. age 13 to 16 were the bad years

guilt

shame

denial

hate

anger

………. age 5 to well, im not perfect, no one can be, but up to early this year. I’m done with you all, good riddance

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