Diary of a Non-Binary

Part Eighteen

I've changed my look so much in the past year that even I can barely tell when I look in a mirror that I was born in a female body. It's a very strange feeling looking at the face you've seen your whole life, yet it somehow confuses you. I'll start looking for certain parts of my face that would tell me what I was originally, even though I like to see neither sex, it's a human reaction. I suppose once I get contact lenses it'll be even harder to tell, because I've had glasses for as long as I can remember.

*Talking to a classmate I can't remember the name of before class*

I came into the room and set my stuff on my desk. "You're one of those freaks, right?" He said to me

"Freaks?"

"Yeah, one of those gender-fluid, trans-freaks."

"Well, it's called non-binary, actually."

"Well, whatever it is, I don't really care. I mean it's cool and all, but at the end of the day, it's all about what's in between your legs."

I wanted to spit some facts at him to shut him up, maybe so I could give him some kind of knowledge to work off of, but the bell rang before I could say anything more. I sat down and it seemed that the conversation was forgotten.

*during French class, starting work on a conversation project*

"Ok, since I was the horrible father last time, you can be him this time." I said to Vinny, my partner for the project.

"Ok, so you should start with something like 'Salut Papa!'" Vinny said, "Then I'll say 'Hello son!' What's the word for son again?"

"Do you have your book?"

"Yeah, lemme look it up." He thought for a moment. "Wait, why am I looking up the word for son when you're a girl"

I started to get worried, "Uh.." I said.

"Or did you want to be called the son?"

"Yeah..."

"Ok," he said, "wait, are you being serious?"

"Yeah..."

"Ok, that's cool."

Thanks for understanding.