Personal Narrative: My Hair During My Childhood

During my childhood, I dressed differently. All the other other second grade girls wore skirts and pink shirts with sparkles, ruffles and hearts. I preferred to wear basketball shorts, t-shirts and tennis shoes. I wore that type of outfit every day. My preferred hair style was a short bob . Some people say I dressed like a boy. I always thought I dressed like myself. I never wanted to look like a boy, just in my basketball shorts and t- shirt I felt most comfortable. I received lots of stares in bathrooms and questions about my gender. I never took these personally, most people were curious and I answered them politely, not taking it personal. One incident really hit me hard, it felt like a sledgehammer to the heart. No matter what things
How could someone ask this question. Did she ever feel what it is like to be on the receiving side of ignorant questions like the one she posed? In this moment I feel dumbstruck, unable to move. I wanted to come up with a comeback or a rant on how it hurt me but all I can think of is one word. “Really?” I wanted to come up with something more extravagant and complicated. I stared at her for what seems like hours, but only is meer milliseconds. I turn around and race out of the bathroom, looking back at the sign she checked to make sure I was in the right restroom. I run past the bar hearing the drunk people cackle after downing shots of hard liquor. I race up the stairs. My vision is blurred from the tears forming in my eyes. The lights seem to have darken. Quickly, I wiped the tears from my eyes, restoring my vision. After my long search, I found my family, sitting at a table in the corner of the room. I ran into my mom’s arms. She was confused but still embraced me not knowing the reason for my sadness. I told my family the story, my sadness is replaced with fear. Fear of other people asking me this same question. Fear of getting judgemental looks and questions. I was afraid of being