Δαφνη Ευτυχια Αρθουρος

When I was 5, my long blonde hair, which I loved, was cut off into a short page-boy cut because my mother was tired of taking care of it. I cried. For the next 3 years, people constantly called me a boy because I was a tomboy, wearing jeans and t-shirts. I even looked like a boy in a dress when I dressed up for church on Sunday. I *hated* it. While I didn't want to be a girly girly and wear dresses and play Barbies, I did want to be recognized as the correct gender. When I finally got big pink glasses in 3rd grade, people started calling me a girl again. This makes me especially empathetic towards transpeople because on some level, I know how it feels to be constantly called the wrong gender.