Back when I was sixteen I was crazy in love with a guy in my computer class. He was kinda cute, intelligent and had the bestest smile in the world. We spent a lot of time together, hanging out. So much so that everyone else thought there was something there. I was starting to hope too, but that all came to a crashing halt the day he thumped me on the back and said, “you’re just one of the guys aren’t you?”
I’ve never been a girly girl. When I was small I had my mum cut my hair real short and pretended to be a boy. My father in his infinite wisdom never had our ears pierced so that really helped. Needless to say that at the age of six, George from the Famous Five was my hero. My best friend was my same-age-cousin Chamara and we spent every school holiday either playing Journey to the Centre of the Earth or Star Trek (his slightly overweight elder sister unknowingly filled in as the random alien of the day).
One school holiday I begged my father to make me a sword and a cricket bat; which he did, carved with his own hands out of random pieces of wood. He made me a set of bow and arrows and taught me to play darts and box (the latter consisted mostly of punching walls for the lack of anything else to punch).
I don’t think I ever entirely outgrew my boy gene. And I’m glad. It’s nice to be on the inside.
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