girl, woman, man

TW: Extreme gender dysphoria.

small girl. she sits on a dock, her green fishing
pole without a bobber as she jigs for fish. her
light blonde hair gets in her face. stubbornly, she
reaches up and pushes it away. she catches a fish. throws it back.
this is the essence of her hunt. she does not
keep them. fish after fish goes back into the water.

same girl. same light blonde hair.
she sits in the bridal store, pouting at her mother.
'c'mon,' her mother begs, smiling at her. 'it's just a dress.'
the girl pushes her lower lip out further. 'you have
to wear it,' the mother continues. 'you're the flower girl.'
her camouflage shirt--a handmedown from her brothers--
wrinkles as she crosses her arms. can't win
these battles. after all, she is a girl. they want her to
have long hair and wear dresses and paint her nails
and she ends up giving in because she is taught that
what others expect of her is what she should be.
so she puts on the dress. and when her mother
signs her up for tap dancing, she agrees to that, too.
hates the pink. hates the bows. tap dances anyways.

same girl. not so little anymore. still light
blonde hair, only its began to spiral. she has
lost all of her baby teeth. now eleven. it is in
the summer that she gets her first period. she is
uncomfortable and sad and ashamed when she tells her
mother the news. her mother gives her a hug, and seems
proud because this is her daughter. and she has
a budding chest. and she has hair under her armpits.
means it is time to teach her to shave. and
now that she knows, it is expected. can't
go to school wearing shorts if your legs are
even prickly. it is a crime.

and it isn't cute to be a tomboy anymore. she is
forced to stop. and she realizes that, while she's
amazing at basketball, the boys will never pick her
because she isn't equal to them. and the girls at junior
high give her grimaces because she doesn't wear makeup.
so if she wants friends, she has to put herself into
a suit of flesh. and it feels painful each morning. but
now she's a woman. so she has to. now she's a woman.
even if she doesn't feel like one.

the science is in.
she's got hips like a butterfly (she's a woman)
the science is in.
she's got big, blue-green eyes (she's a woman)
the science is in.
she's got a soft, kind voice
the science is in.
so why can't we rejoice?