Introductory Letter

            I’ve never been what modern society deems as normal—not now, not then, not ever. For as long as I can remember I have preferred heels to sneakers, mini dresses to suits and makeup to the “normal” makeup-up-free face of a man.  Growing up in a small town filled with small-minded people caused for a somewhat hard childhood. I was never allowed to forget that I looked and acted different from everyone else, be it from violent threats or having to sue my high school to be allowed into my senior prom wearing a pair of pumps. 

After four years of taking psychology from a truly inspirational teacher I decided I wanted to dig deeper into people’s minds because I hoped that one day I would understand why few people had the ability to look past gender and accept and love me as a human being. As a first year at UCF, majoring in psychology and minoring in women’s studies I hope to achieve an understanding of the way people think and why gender roles are such an important part of our culture.

To associate myself with a specific gender would be assigning a label to my body. I’ve never understood labels—I think they are pointless. For as long as I can remember I have been blind to the differences between genders. When looking at any individual I see a person, not their gender. Because of this, I see it unfit that women make on average 70 cents to the dollar, I don’t understand why a man can’t wear a dress and walk down the street without getting looks of utter disappointment from his fellow citizens and I hope that one day others will be blind to gender.

My daily life is constant struggle of trying to answer questions about my gender and my body because I have no answers. Part of me wishes that when I stood there looking at my reflection in the mirror, I would be content with the female staring back. But for some reason of which I can’t seem to comprehend, I stare at my reflection knowing that I would never be content with what that small part of me so desperately hopes for. I can’t explain it. I have no words, just thoughts—thoughts that I can’t seem to comprehend. I search constantly for those syllables that will one day allow me to explain the way I feel. I’m hopeful. I’m confused. I lack the proper words.

            I feel like I’m a relatively brave person. Bravery can’t be measured but it can be proven. We all have it, some more than others, but either way it is something that we all possess. I wasn’t brave before, but I’m brave now. I dare to dream of a time where I don’t have to worry about my safety for the way I look, and I hope for an accepting future. This is who I am. Hello, it's nice to meet you!