The First Time I Realized

Rocky, 8th - Maryland

The first time I realized I was a male was my 4th birthday. A friends dad was dropping them off but popped by to ask a question, “Do you have a crush, or any girlfriends”. I, being 4, said no I didn’t. When I said that he assured me “not to worry” and that I would grow up to be a heartbreaker. I almost started crying because who would ever want to make someone feel like that.

The first time I realized I was a female was the same day, my 4th birthday. The same thing happened to me, a friends mom was dropping them off but popped by to ask a question, “Do you have a crush, or any boyfriends. I, being 4, said no I didn’t. When I said that, she assured me “not to worry” and that when I grew up the boys wouldn’t be able to get their hands off of me. Little did I know that less than 6 years later I would grow up for “the first time” I was taught to suppress my emotions was the second time I realized I was a male.

I was 6 and it was three months after I had lost a loved one. I had cried every day since then. One day, I came to school and started crying. Not even ten seconds after I had started bawling, the assistant teacher told me to stop crying because “boys don’t cry”. I wasn’t even ten before I was taught to suppress my emotions are always seen as “extra”. The second time I realized I was a female was on a day when I was ten. I was in a mood and angry for no reason. The next day I was asked if I was on my period. Knowing that when a female is on their period, they produce an excess amount of testosterone, a hormone found mostly in males, they thought I was on my period because apparently frustration and anger are “boy emotions” are no emotions. Because the patriarchy has successfully rebranded frustration and anger as “not an emotion” (that is if you are a male).

The third time I realized that I was a male was when I got into and argument with a girl. We were shouting at each other and eventually she ran off, crying. A little while later I felt bad and when to see her to apologize, but instead I heard her father trying to comfort her saying “boys will be boys” has to be one of the dumbest phrases I have ever heard, and yet it runs through my veins like a cancer.

The third time I realized I was a female was when I started noticing the pattern. The pattern that whenever I told someone “Hey this boy did ___” they would point down to the back of my hand. My eyes would follow and low and behold I would see the words imprinted on the back of my hand, “boys will be boys”. Males could never wear a dress or the color pink without being called “gay”. Females could never walk alone at night without the underlying fear of unwanted hands. We all have our problems, but we cannot keep comparing them because IT WON’T DO ANYTHING. We cannot take steps forward without looking backwards.