when I was a kid, I had a really cool Toronto Raptors hat

I wore it at my first day of sports camp

the counsellor counted: “13 boys, only 2 girls…”

there were supposed to be 3

I timidly raised my hand to say, “I’m a girl”


in a world of pink and blue divides

I wasn’t the same as the girls

I wasn’t the same as the boys

I was a tomboy


I swung on vines and carried a pocketknife

I caught minnows and made tree forts

reveled outside under raindrops and sunshine

and had to be chased down to come back inside


I bounced a ball against a wall for hours for hours on end

and I beat the boys in field-length races during recess


as this tomboy

I was granted sanctuary in an elaborate tree fort

outside there was a sign that read “let her be”

inside we had colouring books, crayons,

hockey cards, marbles, dissected radios

and bags of ketchup chips

I felt like I could do anything


I played and I played and I played

until I realized

I am a different kind of person

I exist on the spectrum of masculinity and femininity

I wear a sign on my heart that reads: let me be

in a gendered body, in a gendered world

I live in this body, of breasts, of blood, of birth

and my body is not the place for your gender stereotypes


I am sacred, I am fluid, I am choice

I’m grown from the sanctity of tomboys and tree forts

pink and blue divides don’t make sense to me


the rainbow has always been my favorite colour











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