...and my brief, insignificant identity crisis

My last post has caused me to take a little stroll down memory lane, and take my husband with me.  I needed to 'splain to him exactly why I was trying to pee like a boy, as it was slightly disturbing for him.  There is a simple explanation really...for a period of time during my childhood, from about kindergarten through third grade I wanted to be a boy. 

Really, I did.  Boys, I thought, had so much more fun!  At that age, I would much rather play race cars than Barbies, and kickball won out over hopscotch on the playground anyday.  I was nearly obsessed with my brother's Star Wars collection.  We would set up elaborate scenarios outside or in the basement with all of his ships and figurines (we, meaning he would be playing with them and I would beg and beg him to let me play too).  I could try and redeem myself here and tell you that I played with Princess Leia and made her make out with Han Solo.  Nope.  I wanted to play with his sweet X-Wing Fighter and  Millenium Falcon.  I used to strap Storm Trooper figurines under our dog's collar and pretend she was a Bantha.  And talk like Yoda, I could.  Besides all that, I also wanted a Big Wheel in the worst way, and I had absolutely no desire to wear a skirt.  Ever. 

It's all true, and well, as long as I'm confessing all this I might as well let it all come out.  Not only did I want to be a boy, but for a couple of days in second grade I told everyone at school that I was a boy.  And that my name was Paul.  I even used the boys bathroom once at school when no one was looking, I did. 

And I wanted boy haircut...see?  This is as short as my mom would let me go with my hair.  

Please don't ask about the shirt.  I have no idea where it came from, but it was mine and was the most boyish shirt I could find for "Paul" to wear on picture day.  And it was 1976.  There was a flower on it tho, does that help?  I didn't think so.

There must be a reason for all of this, right?  Well if there is, I have no idea what, and honestly I don't think I want to treck down that psychological road less traveled to find out.  I'd rather just think it a somewhat cute and only slightly bizzarre phase in my personal history and move along.  Whatever the reason was, it didn't stick and I distinctly remember during the summer between third and fourth grade when I made the conscious decision that I would embrace being a girl.  I got all girly that summer.  I began letting my hair grow out, playing barbies with my girlfriends and making little cakes in my friend Judy's Easy Bake Oven, and talking about having crushes on boys.  I started letting my sister curl my hair and secretly played with her Make-Up Barbie whenever she wasn't home. 

By sixth grade, my walls were plastered with pin ups from Teen Beat Magazine of Eric Estrada and Andy Gibb, and I wanted to marry Willie Aames from "Eight Is Enough".   And, I just happened to have the cutest boy in our class as my boyfriend...see :)

He was the first boy I ever kissed!  (Shhh...don't tell Vince).  Were we cute or what???

Just so you know, I have never, ever since third grade wanted to be a boy again.  I'm sure my parents are thankful for that (and incidently, so is my husband).  I'm not sure about Willie, tho...he never called.  Sigh.