I am genderfluid, but I was still born in a female body. However, I didn’t learn about different genders until high school, and for most of my childhood I presented as and was viewed as a girl.  So of course, I was subjected to the horrors that come with living in a female body.

Especially in Catholic middle school.  I looked feminine, so everyone around me thought I must have a “feminine attitude” (as mentioned in “Throwing Like a Girl”), although it did vary from person to person.

The girls were kinda judgy. A lot of them wanted to straighten my hair, on account of it being “prettier” than my frizzy curls, but I always said no.  One day a girl asked to brush a strand of my hair.  I allowed her to brush a single strand, and she learned very quickly why you can’t brush curly hair dry. She was horrified.

Meanwhile, the boys in my class thought of me as the embodiment of innocence.  I looked feminine and I spoke in a high pitched voice, but I couldn’t really change that.  I also followed the rules, but that was out of wanting to avoid punishment.  I learned that the guys thought that I never heard a curse word in my life (I knew plenty).  One time they approached me by the lockers, giggling, and told me to curse.  I said “fuck”, and they went wild with shock and bewilderment.

So, girls saw me as a girl, but also someone who wasn’t doing enough to be a girl, or someone who needed to be molded into their form of femininity.  Someone they had to fix. The boys thought that I was some kind of dainty, clueless, innocent being  based on mannerisms that were out of my control, and fully intended on mocking me for it. 

My teachers (all women), shared a similar if not more intense sentiment of the girls.  One time in class, I was sitting the way that a bored student with undiagnosed ADHD would sit.  The teacher looked at me and told me to “sit like a lady.”  Then there was the dress code.  One time we had a free-dress day (otherwise we wore uniforms) and I was wearing thick, snug pants.  At lunch my teacher called me over, and calmly explained to me that my form-accentuating clothing could distract the boys or give them ideas, and I couldn’t wear anything like that again without getting a conduct referral.  I almost cried on the spot.

My teachers shamed me for not being feminine enough and for being too feminine.  They saw me living my life in my body and wanted to police that.  I learned that no matter what I did, I would be shamed for not acting the way I was “supposed” to.  This was even more confusing given my complicated feelings on my gender identity, but not even knowing about genders off the binary (Catholic school education).  I felt uncomfortable in my own body.

It was hard for me to learn to be comfortable with my own body.  After realizing my gender identity, I had to work out how I really felt about my body.  I had to figure out which uncomfortable feelings were from body dysphoria, and which were from all the gross, sexist ideas that I was bombarded with.  

And after that, I felt a lot more comfortable.