Me: I forget that I’m a… (insert gender here).
Everyone else (looks me up and down): How?
This is the question I hate the most.
Explanation:
As a gender neutral child, puberty was my worst nightmare, and very few people have ever let me forget it.
Look, we’re not bodies with souls, we are souls with bodies (George MacDonald, A Quiet Neighbourhood). What does my gender matter? I am a brain inhabiting a meat suit. I can change my appearance, my sex, my gender, I could be burned over 90% of my body, and I would still be me. I can remake myself over and over.
I just want to be me.
But people only look at the outside, the package, the meat suit.
And that is why I hate to be asked, “How do you forget what gender you are?”
Me: Why can’t you see past that into my soul?
Shalanosa's Sanctuary 