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It really was inevitable, that I was going to have boy characteristics in my personality that stood out more prominently than those of female. At the time I had two older brothers, and four that would eventually come and join the family. Saying that, my mom really shouldn't have been surprised when I didn't prefer barbie dolls over action figures. Or when I hated the itchy fabric that seemed to only be sewn into pink dresses. My earliest sense of disappointment was on my sixth birthday. For months I had been expressing to my family how much I wanted the limited edition G.I. Joe action figure set. Similar to every year, a neatly wrapped pink box with a white bow on top was placed into my lap. My excitement was unlike any other, until I opened the box of course. Inside the box was a cook with me barbie with bleach blonde hair and a make-up set of lip glosses. Instead of being angry and throwing a tantrum, I started to cry. I cried not only because I hadn't gotten what I wanted, but I didn't understand why I hadn't gotten it. Later that night I asked my mom why I hadn't gotten the G.I. Joe set, she kissed my forehead softly and simply told me "Cause they just aren't for girls." When I was seven years old, I was placed into etiquette classes. Mainly because my father and mother believed that every young girl should know how to be a lady. I would never cooperate with the regulations given to me by teachers. I would always be scolded because of my impoliteness towards others, and rude remarks that spewed out of my mouth. In my mind I never wanted to be anything those teachers taught me, I wanted to be my own person. I wanted to have a voice in what my life was planned out to do. Whenever I spoke to my parents about not wanting to go to these classes. My father always told me, "You will go because you are a girl. I am raising a young lady not another boy."
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