1 - Blue.

For as long as I can remember, my gender never came naturally to me. Not like it seemed to for others. It was a constant battle. By the time I was three years old, I knew I couldn’t handle the expectations of being a girl.

It all started with a lolly wrapper. My Nan would keep a jar of lollies on top of the fridge and my sister and I would stare at it longingly whenever we came to visit. There we were waiting patiently as she waddled over...

“Which one would you like?” she asked as she loosened the lid.

I scanned my options – there were pink lollies or blue lollies. I knew which one I wanted. Nan reached into the jar and pulled out a pink one, handing it to my sister. She gratefully accepted and scurried away. That was the one she wanted. I knew it. She knew it. Nan knew it.

When it was my turn I watched as Nan carefully put her hand in and fished around the jar, “I know which one you want” she claimed.

I smiled confidently, everybody knew what my favourite colour was, surely. At that age your favourite colour is an extremely important part of your identity so you make sure people know it. I had chosen my favourite colour because of what it represented. It was very strategical, and very important.

She pulled out another pink lolly and I felt my heart sink. She didn’t know me at all. I wanted the blue one. I always want the blue one. Blue meant I was calm, cool and a boy. I can remember the disappointment and it must have been painted all over my face. Three year olds can’t lie.

“Oh, you don’t like this one?” she said sounding puzzled “little girls always like the pink ones!”

“I like the blue one!” I yelled in her face and ran away feeling sad and misunderstood.

Was this what it was going to be like for the rest of my life? Will people always assume things about me? Will I always have to explain myself? Am I always going to be different? Since the ripe age of three I have been in constant negotiation with my gender.

#gender #identity #trans #nonbinary