Once upon a time, I tried to fit in my class. I don’t even try anymore. I’m 20 years old now, days before graduating from high school, and I’m going to wear a suit at the exam, just like the guys (except for the tie).
How did I end up being an upfront tomboy?
My mother’s a country girl: no makeup, no nailpaint, no pretty dresses. She set a role model, I followed through. I never played with dolls, I was more into stuffed animals and matchboxes. I liked dark blue and black, hated pink and bright colours. When the teachers made me wear skirts and pretty shoes for school events (I was a very good narrator), I wanted to die. I liked to be in sweatpants and comfy shoes.
My hair was cut in a short pixie style from the start, then I grown it around 6th grade. I realized that I couldn’t pull it off, it looked bloody awful, so I went back to pixie and in high school: military (3 millimetres). I started to wear all-black clothes, even more masculine ones than before.
My life became a living nightmare. I get comments in the ladies’ bathroom and in the women’s department. Everybody assumes that I’m gay – as a matter of fact, I am not, I’ve always liked men. Every bloody kid goes around shouting their bloody questions to their parents and friends, regarding my sex and sexuality.
A year ago, I had class in the building where primary school kids study. I went to the bathroom and a teacher came after me because the kids told her that “a boy was in the girls’ toilet”. I was pissed like hell. I was wearing earrings, couldn’t they see that I was a girl?
Eh, I’m not even sure that I am a tomboy. I look and dress like one but I’m more emotional (=girly) than tomboys tend to be, I don’t like that many manly things, I’m not interested in cars or team sports, I rather read, write or play. I don’t even get along with guys because of my shyness (again, not very tomboy-ish) so they can very well assume that I’m into girls.
Well… screw my life.
My mother and I have fights every other week about my choice of expressing myself. She hates my hair, she says that I look like a death camp fugitive or a cancer patient and that I deserve to be looked down on. She doesn’t understand that a leopard cannot change its spots – I simply cannot act as a girl because I’m stuck somewhere between two genders.