By Sil O’Ette

I have never quite known
what a girl is meant to feel like.

Something began to rip my girlhood
from my small and quivering hands.
The day nobody wanted to play in the dirt with me.
The day I was deemed a “pleasure to have in class”.
The day I was sent to the school counselor,
who told me I should just go on walks

The day I cried that I wanted to go home
sitting inside the very walls I was raised in.
The day I announced I “wasn’t like other girls”
and let the clothes my mother bought for me
adorned with sequins and glitter
and perhaps pure joy itself
collect dust inside my closet.

The days I stumbled upon the razor blades
kept in my family’s medicine cabinet.
The days I felt small and alone in crowds
of hundreds, perhaps thousands of people.
The days I laid awake and pondered
“Am I even a girl at all?”

though nowadays,
I can feel her healing.

When I see girls playing with dolls
traveling to worlds far, far away,
oceans, mountains, galaxies,
lands of their own creation.
Having the times of their lives
whilst simply kneeling on the carpeted floor

when I see girls braiding their friends’ hair
when I see girls whispering in each other’s ears
then shamelessly giggling afterwards
when I see girls twirling around in dresses
asking their mothers if they look beautiful
(when I hear their mothers reply “always”)

What’s left of my girlhood sits inside me
scraped knees pulled tightly to her chest,
dirt all over her frilly clothes,
tears stream down her rosy cheeks.

They are the loveliest shade of pink
that I have ever seen

–

Sil O’Ette is a transmasc Australian writer. They are autistic and have ADHD, and have been writing since the age of 6. They would like to write professionally one day in order to share their experiences, ideas and, most of all, stories with the world.