I still remember.
I still remember everything I was told when I was young.
When I was old enough to go out with my friends alone,
“Be careful while crossing the street.”
“Don’t take flowers from strangers.”
“Don’t walk down dark streets.”

The things I especially could never forget were,
“Don’t walk like a girl! Walk like a man!”
“Walk like a soldier!”
“Wear the baggiest thing you could find.”
“Wear something that hides your body.”
“Wear something to hide that you’re a girl.”
Why should I walk like a man?
Is it shameful to be a girl?
Why should I walk like a soldier?
Aren’t I a girl?
Then it should be normal to walk like one.
I’m a girl.
Why should I be cautious of everything?
Why should I avoid eye contact in the street and keep my head down?
Why hide the fact that I’m a girl?
But that’s how it is.
I have to do as they say.
I did as they said.
I did everything they said.

I’d feel guilty whenever someone would harass me,
Or say something about my looks.
“Are you trying to act like a girl! Man up!”
At home, they liked it when I styled my hair and wore lipstick.
They would even buy me girly things.
But they would never let me go out alone.
They’d it find weird how I never dressed up when going out.
It’s like they wanted me to be part-man, part-woman.
I did as they said.
I walked like a man.
I dressed like a man.
I lived like a man.
Now, I’m scared to look in the mirror.

I used to try to hide my breasts when they started getting bigger.
I wore baggy clothes and a bra that would hide them.
Then I started wearing scarves.
And wore lighter ones in the summer.
I was always worried that it would show that I’m a girl and I have breasts.
When I was older, I started dressing normally.
But I was still afraid.
I would look at my breasts while walking down the street and wonder if they were showing.
Until this day, I sometimes rush home to take off the scarf and make sure I’m still a girl.