I stand at the door on my way to school, tears rolling down my face. A long skirt grazes my small, thin legs; a knot clenches in my stomach. It’s the first day of school, maybe second or third grade. Every year, my family insists I wear a dress or skirt to school on the first day, presenting myself as the proper female student. I am not.
What I didn’t know then — and what I am just now starting to explore — is that my discomfort on those first days of school was about more than just clothes. It was about who I am, and, as I now suspect, it was likely about my gender identity.
I do not want to write this now. I want to write another story: one that inspires, one that shows strength and clarity instead of confusion and trepidation. Putting my uncertainty into words is terrifying, yet I know the value of this exercise. Others have shared their stories with me so honestly. Now it’s my turn.
[For more on this story by Annie Tritt, go to https://www.vox.com/first-pers...rans-nonbinary-youth]
Comments (1)