That moment when my ex-girlfriend writes a poem for class about me, and it describes me better than I've ever described myself:

I loved her

She so captivated me:

my little explorer

with her maps,

like a bird she

twittered restless for

flight, anxious

for the next

forest to camp in,

the next river to

quench her thirst.

Sometimes I catch my reflection in the mirror, and I get startled because I forgot that I'm a girl. It's not that I'm transgender, or want to be a boy. I just don't like being a girl. I don't like parts of my body, I don't like the connotations that come with being a girl, I just don't like it. If I could, I would switch in to a man's body. But, like, I don't have the mind of a boy. I like my "girl's mind." I don't think of myself as a boy, I think I'd just like to have the body of one.

But at the same time, sometimes I catch myself wanting to be one of those girls that can wear whatever they want and be called pretty. I see clothes at a store that I want so, so badly, but I don't get them because I'd never wear them because I'm "too boyish." I'd just like to be one of those girls for a while. Not forever, but just to try.