Breaking Down Boxes

When I was a young girl, I got a thrill every time someone mistakenly called me my father’s son. It never occurred to me that this wasn’t the normal reaction. But I didn’t question it. I hated “girly things” but accepted it was because I was overweight and nothing fit and that I was a tomboy.

It wasn’t until three decades later that I began to understand why that was… it’d never dawned on me that I wasn’t stuck in the life dictated by my chromosomes. That there’s more to me than the genitalia...