Is there a way to think of one’s childhood without a narrative, without viewing it through some kind of lens? Or by the virtue of thinking about it, do we change it? By the way we construct our past, what we focus on and what we leave out, how we interpret our actions, do we inevitably cast some kind of slant on our past?
I’ve posted before on my childhood and how it certainly isn’t anyone’s “typical” trans narrative. I’ve felt much pressure, and had to deal with many feelings of illegitimacy, because there are so many “girly” parts to my childhood. Most noticeably, I never thought I was going to grow up to be a boy; I never felt that being a girl felt wrong or not enough. But then I realized that it’s not as though my childhood was exclusively filled with moments of stereotypical girlyness. In feeling somehow inadequate in the “trans-ness” of my childhood, have I actually gone the other way and constructed my childhood narrative as being more gendered than it truthfully was? And is it even possible to tell a story without constructed it, changing it, in some way? Continue reading