“Mama, I hate this dress. It’s scratchy. I want to be a boy!”
“Honey, you were born a girl. You can wear your cowgirl outfit this afternoon. There are just times we must dress like little girls. “
“Boys have more fun!”
In one form or another this conversation played out in my home for years. I so wanted to be a boy. I had no interest in dolls, or dresses, or having mom fuss over my hair. I wanted to sport a pair of blue jeans, a shirt and a six shooter on my hip. I can’t remember if mom made my cowgirl outfit or bought it, but I would bet money that she made it herself. She was a wonderful seamstress. But there I was all decked out, just like Dale Evans. Life was good.
Mom would drag me kicking and screaming into beautiful, ruffled dresses every chance she got. Holidays were a nightmare for this little tomboy. I’m sure that reference will offend many but back in the day, that was my label. Sundays would find me in a prickly, scratchy, dress with my hair all curled up. I couldn’t be still in Sunday school from all the scratching that was going on. Mom would tell me to stop, the material was soft. Soft for an elephant maybe. It was the 1950s. No such thing as fabric softener. Only starch to make those petticoats stand out. She even bought me dolls to play with. Boring!
Over the years of me complaining about being a girl, not once did my parents ever say, “That’s okay Honey. You can be a boy.” What the hell?
Don’t get me wrong, I understand there are people out there in the world that are gay. They have the need or wants to be with their own gender. I have had gay friends tell me they knew from an early age that they were different. I once asked a gay male friend of mine if he dressed as a girl when he was a kid. His answer was…..ah no. However, his partner told me he had.
I guess I’m just too old to understand this transgender stuff. My theory is if you are born with a penis, you are male. If you are born with a vagina, you’re a girl. Get over it. I did when I was about twelve. All along I knew I was never going to change into a boy. With parents that allowed me to play with toys that were considered boy’s stuff, I was satisfied.
But that was then, and now our world has changed. People are allowing their children to pick what gender they wish to be. I saw on a TV show the other night a child was saying they identify as gender Z. WTH is that? Zebra? Zillow?
All in all, there is just one human race. Two genders. Live by the golden rule and all will be good. How hard is that?