Just One of the Boys.

I grew up with a fairly big family, lots of aunts and uncles. My mother was one of six and my father one of five. When the two of them decided to get married they were blessed with four. My mom tried to stop after two boys, but when she went to have her tubes tied the routine pregnancy test ruined her plans. So, then there were four—my two older brothers, and then me and my twin sister. If it wasn’t hard enough growing up with two older brothers, when my sister and I were four, my parents bought a house on a street with all boys. My sister and I were the only two girls out of the fifteen kids living down Gapway, and she fit in better than I.

Holly was a tom-boy, she loved the outdoors and was super athletic. I loved the glitter and makeup, but if I was going to have playmates I would have to learn to lean into the mud and make glitter out of sand grains. Everyday after school was a new adventure. We played tag football, had muck wars, swam with the snakes and alligators. There were no barbies or doll houses, and if we ever got any they ended up with a pile of dust as thick as wax. Since we were “little” girls and the youngest of all these boys we were definitely manipulated. I’ve been duct taped to walls, launched into space from the trampoline, squeezed in between the engine and tires of a go-cart, left for snake bait and enlisted into the command of many of their armies. Rather than be left-out, I did my best to fit in.

It was definitely awkward at times especially as we got a little older, well at least for me, maybe not so much for my sister. She loved hanging with the guys and was great at being sporty and tough. On the other hand, I was great at being prissy and fragile—and fragile doesn’t fit with boys. One day my brothers and their friends decided they were going to shoot me to the moon from the trampoline (and this was before the safety nets that go around the trampoline were invented). We all know what goes up must come down, and I came down so hard with one leg on the outside of the trampoline and the other through the springs if I had been a boy I would’ve been curled up in a fetal position for days. Oh it hurt, and there was blood…a painfully awkward moment for a 10 yr old girl surrounded by boys and the babysitters boyfriend. Another time, I was vetoed out of driving the Sea-doo by the next door neighbor, only to have him crash us into the neighbors dock. There I was again injured—busted head, gashed leg and crying, a fragile little girl in a rough and tough boys world. It’s a wonder I survived. Then there was the time my brother decided to create a “make-shift” seat on the back of our single-seat go kart. He took a piece of cardboard and fit it between the engine and the back tire, and I was just small enough to fit back there. As he whipped around the corner of the house my bare leg slid into the tire and the rubber ripped the flesh from my thigh. Oh how I longed for making beaded necklaces, playing dress-up and pretending to be a runway model.

Then there came the dreaded teenage years on Gapway, all the boys grew up and became hotties and I was just seen as the “little sister” they never had. I was boy-crazy and desperately wanted them to see me as the babe on the street. I dressed for the part, always trying to make a new impression but they couldn’t see past all the childhood memories of little Natalie. To them I was just one of the neighborhood “boys''. My sister could care less, she embraced being considered “one of the boys'' and didn’t have time for all the girl drama of relationships. Of course when I brought home any of my “girl” friends from school, all the boys gave me attention then. They wanted to scope out the “new” girls on the block and many of my friends dated a few of them at some point or another. However, I was left playing matchmaker and again just playing wingman for the boys.

When I finally found the guy that would accept me as the princess I was, I married him and found the biggest crown I could find. We said I do and I thought I would finally get to play with the girls. Not so much my lot, we ended up having boys—not one, not two, but four boys!

Oh I got to play dress up… but those days were filled with skeletons, superheroes, fortnite llamas, snakes, snails and puppy dog tails.

And although I haven’t always felt like I fit in, and still don’t at times. I wouldn’t trade my time as one of the boys for too many things. It has made me a stronger woman, and for that I am thankful.