It begins so early, gender and identity awareness. My two-year old likes to talk about who has a penis and who has a vagina, and sometimes swaps them to give herself a laugh. Tonight her dad worked late, so it was just the two of us eating dinner. She crunched her salad, balsamic vinegar dripping down her chin, and declared, “I’m a big girl.” And I nodded yes. And then, “I’m a little girl.” And I nodded yes. And then, “I’m a woman!” The light in those brown eyes, the joy of choosing language to tell me what she knows. And my intention to be gentle around this. To guide her not through this-or-that, but along the many spectrums.
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