Mole on My Skin
She was a woman even though she was not. She was called Erin, like her birth name Arron. Simple, not THAT big of a change. Just a normal person with the desire to be what she was not. She wondered if such anomalies happened in the animal kingdom. Did a deer desire to be a turtle? Did a beaver need to be a mole? The animal world and the human world were not THAT different from one another. She had read somewhere that there was a bird, a Cardinal, that was both sexes, it was half red like a male and half brown like a female. Arron was born male but had always felt like a female. Her look had always been androgynous, the long neck like a swan, huge round eyes with long lashes like the tail of a comet and her tiny figure. Then came the gestures, the need to do something with her hair, her walk and her talk. There was always a desire to embellish the bland parts of her and paint the blank wall red. These things came so easy, this need to be a woman. A she. Not a he or a they. Oh, GOD! Who was responsible for all of this new pronoun stuff? It was so confusing, especially to the older generation but she shouldn’t be confused-she wasn’t old…well, not THAT old. She was approaching 30 in a few years but it felt like 50 in a few months. It didn’t matter, the world had changed so much that she felt ancient, out of touch, misunderstanding and misunderstood. Did a penis make a man? Her friend Zach, a young man of merely twenty-two now said his name was Amy. Call me Amy. Not Zach. Erin was perplexed. Zach was a hot boy, a straight boy- but now, all of a sudden, he wanted to be non-binary. He no longer felt like a boy and he did not identify as a male or a female.