On the Run

Prologue

I'm just your run-of-the-mill average girl, if you could even call me that. I don't really consider myself a girl; sometimes I feel masculine and other times I feel feminine. I haven't told a single soul about it, though. I don't know if they would understand.

I live in the United States, where the country is predominantly catholic. My family enjoys talking about my community, the LGBTQ+ community. They speak harshly on our ways of life, and I feel unsafe to come out to them.

However, even though they have no idea that I'm not really their daughter, I am able to dress the way I want to. On masculine days I wear beanies and on feminine days I wear skirts, if it's warm enough of course. One of the things I love to wear are bright colorful clothes, and when I feel like it, I can be one of the edgiest people you know.

My hair is a long, wavy chestnut brown that gracefully flows down to my lower-back. My skin is a light nutmeg color. My voice, according to others, is very lively and warm. My eyes are the color of a raging chocolate river. And, I saved the best for last, my body is beautiful as I am plus-sized. A beautiful size, and I love my body for the way it is, and I'm happy to wear whatever I wish.

  My name is even flexible. Though I was given the name Charlotte at birth, I'm called Charlie by most people I know. I feel Charlie suits me best.

With my hair, I can braid it in any way I please, but when I feel masculine, I can hide my hair inside the beanie. With my name, I can be masculine and feminine at the same time. I'm proud of my hair, I'm proud of my body, I'm proud of my name, and I'm proud of me.

  There's only one thing I'm not proud of. I'm not proud of the fact that I'm now on the run.