I Was Not Born Into A Body So Much As Positioned Within One

I was not born into a body so much as positioned within one.

I was assigned female at birth. Assigned. The word has always fascinated me. Assigned as if gender were a slot on a bureaucratic spreadsheet, an administrative designation attached to skin before a child has spoken a single word about who they are. Assigned as if identity were a fixed destination rather than a lifelong process of becoming.

When I was five years old, I ran into the house and announced, “I want to be a boy.” Back then, my family called me Blue.

Blue rode a Huffy BMX bike through the neighborhood, chased birds across vacant lots, played football shirtless with the boys, and smeared toothpaste across my face while pretending to shave like my father.

I watched men move through the world and felt an undeniable pull toward them. It wasn’t because I wanted to imitate them. It was because I believed I was one of them.

Looking back, I realise the problem was not what I said. The problem was that I said it decades before most Americans had the language to hear it.