if now was then

from The Gayest Thing Anthology

If Now Was Then

If now was then, I would let the pillowcase secured with a headband hang off my shoulders forever. Or until the roots of my own hair grew strong, nurturing long heavenly strands of brown curls. My grandma eventually able to use those faded pink linen for her bed, once again. 

If now was then, no razor would grace the side of my head cutting away the last remaining fragments of hope each growing follicle gave me. Separating me further and further away from flat irons, and bobby pins, and enough hairspray to threaten the ozone layer. 

If now was then, there wouldn’t have been an argument when I was gifted a doll for my birthday. My friends wouldn't have had to watch as my father's face deepened in redness, spitting explosions of insecurity over why a boy shouldn’t have a doll, why a boy shouldn't do gymnastics, why a boy just shouldn't.

If now was then, I would dress that doll up as a pop star or an astronaut or a doctor and slip shoe after shoe onto her miraculously curved foot until landing on the perfect color. Her hair brushed meticulously and gently.

If now was then, there would be no shame. 

Just joy. 

Euphoria. 

Girlhood. 

If now was then, there would be photographic proof of that girlhood. Photo albums filled with memories of princess cosplay, vibrant pink face-staining birthday cakes, attempts at filling the gaps in my mom’s heels, getting caught in the makeup drawer with red lipstick displayed across my cheeks. 

If now was then, I would be called Billie instead of faggot or pussy or [dead name retracted]. There would be language for my queerness and tolerance for the deep rooted feminine I possess. I'd bloom like a flower, roots nurtured and intricate. 

If now was then, I would stand firm in my body. No longer floating in the shell of a person I don’t recognize. Constantly underwhelmed by the choices of clothes presented and how my flat body looked in them. Unnerving jealousy of girls in crop tops and snug fitting jeans. Soft skin, widening hips. Always longing for the same attention from boys; the ones that named me faggot.

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This piece is part of The Gayest Thing Anthology curated by Nic Marna/Milking It.

When Nic was first looking for submissions, I said I probably wouldn’t write anything. Whether it be from not feeling like my writing was good enough or like I had nothing to add/give to the convo or because i’m truthfully bad with deadlines. It wasn’t until I was listening to “If Now Was Then” by Maggie Rogers that I started to think, “what if I knew I was trans back then?” and without thinking I frantically wrote the first draft of this piece while driving to work, scared the words might leave me and never come back. Maggie’s voice played softly in the background as if to guide me through the motions of understanding these feelings. This piece is about reflecting on your past self while also accepting that you will never get to go back in time to that person and tell them what you now know.

I highly recommend you read everyone else’s pieces as well. I am overwhelmed being included in the presence of such amazing writers and thinkers and queers. All contributors will be linked below so you can support their other work:

☆ Calista Ginn ☆ Gracie Jenkins ☆ Catherine Merritt ☆

☆ Jeanne Cassiers ☆ Zach Sailor ☆ Allison Billmeyer ☆

☆ Carly Croman ☆ Catie Davis ☆ Callan O’Neill ☆ Nic Marna ☆

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Big big big hugs to Nic for creating such a safe space to share such vulnerability and allow queers to talk openly and freely.