Playing Pretend

I didn’t hate being a girl — I just wished I could have been a real one

I was standing at the door of my closet one day, sweeping my hand over the garish pink princess-waist dress hidden at the back. I would say it was my favorite, but that would mean I had other dresses I liked wearing. I didn’t. I had others, but I would do anything to get out of wearing them. This was the only one I loved, but it had already occurred to me that I mostly loved looking at it. Still, it seemed silly that I wore it so rarely, if I loved it so much.