Like a girl

From the beginning, girls and boys
Are raised in wildly different ways:
We’re meant to play with different toys,
We’re shamed or praised for equal traits.

Though I’ve been groomed to be a man,
Deep down, our nature can’t be changed.
They hope I’m careless and brave,
                and aggressive and bold,
                and well-spoken and suave,
                and detached, even cold.

But I’m sensitive and frail.
I’m not an alpha male.
Whenever I try it, I hopelessly fail.

Girls have plenty they can wear
Cute or stylish – it’s all there!
A fine dress, and heads are turned;
A cute skirt, their frown’s adjourned.
The gray manhood can’t compare,
And it frankly isn’t fair…

I can’t think of a plan
For what’s bound to unfurl.
They’re expecting a man,
Yet I think like a girl.

Note: I’ve written this poem before realizing I’m a trans woman. I have since learned there’s nothing wrong with manhood – the problem was that I’m not a man, myself.

– Lady Scarecrow