Have you ever walked into a room and known what everyone was thinking just by the looks on their faces?
On the days I feel abit more masculine, this happens alot.
I search their faces, note their glances, see how quickly they turn their heads when I look directly at them.
They look at the people around them, hoping someone has the answer to the question that is on everyone's mind.
"Is that a girl or a boy?"
Suddenly the dysphoria sets in.
I hope I pass well enough.
Are my boobs noticeable?
Do I have too much make up on to be a boy?
They whisper to eachother.
"Why is that girl dressed like a boy?"
"Why is that boy wearing makeup?"
Most people have never experienced someone like me.
A nonbinary trans person.
I'm a bit more queer than they are used to.
My ex once asked me why I couldn't just be a straight girl.
I have all the right parts to make a woman so why would I hide them.
Somedays I am proud to be as woman as boobs and vagina.
Other days my body is more like a costume I can't take off,
a cage with a curtian thrown over it so no one can see the boy inside.
I tell myself not to worry about the stares.
I tell myself they're only staring because they're amazed I can pull this off.
But these are not friendly stares.
These are you're going to hell stares.
These are let the faggot burn stares.
These are what the fuck is wrong with you stares.
My mother likes to tell people I named myself Eli because it's short for my middle name.
She will not admit that her daughter is no longer her daughter.
And my father doesn't even acknowledge this fact.
My sister is embarressed to tell her friends my name.
And my twin brother always forgets.
I am expected to change.
But I can not change this.
I can not erase this.
I can not deny that this is who I am.
So to answer your question
" Is that a girl or a boy?"
No.
