"My Choice"

I've never had much choice in what I wear. According to the family dress code,

"ladies dress modestly." That means long skirts and high necklines, and that was that. I

never really minded being unable to wear a miniskirt or a tube top--it's probably for the

best--but I always wanted to wear pants.

Don't get me wrong--I like skirts. In summer a skirt is cool and comfortable,

swishing around my legs. I can flap my skirt at recalcitrant sheep or carry the morning's

eggs in it. A good skirt is comfortable, useful, and pretty.

However, trousers have their own advantages. Pants are warmer in winter; I like "My Choice"

I've never had much choice in what I wear. According to the family dress code,

"ladies dress modestly." That means long skirts and high necklines, and that was that. I

never really minded being unable to wear a miniskirt or a tube top--it's probably for the

best--but I always wanted to wear pants.

Don't get me wrong--I like skirts. In summer a skirt is cool and comfortable,

swishing around my legs. I can flap my skirt at recalcitrant sheep or carry the morning's

eggs in it. A good skirt is comfortable, useful, and pretty.

However, trousers have their own advantages. Pants are warmer in winter; I like

to layer knit pants under my garage-sale Army pants, and if Dad's not around I don't have

to wear a skirt over them. Pants don't get in the way when I want to climb a fence or

chaschoice of clothes will be entirely up to me

"My Choice"

I've never had much choice in what I wear. According to the family dress code, "ladies dress modestly." That means long skirts and high necklines, and that was that. I never really minded being unable to wear a miniskirt or a tube top--it's probably for the best--but I always wanted to wear pants. 

Don't get me wrong--I like skirts. In summer a skirt is cool and comfortable, swishing around my legs. I can flap my skirt at recalcitrant sheep or carry the morning's eggs in it. A good skirt is comfortable, useful, and pretty.

However, trousers have their own advantages. Pants are warmer in winter; I like to layer knit pants under my garage-sale Army pants, and if Dad's not around I don't have to wear a skirt over them. Pants don't get in the way when I want to climb a fence or chase a sheep, and I like the big pockets on my Army pants--though they snag on things like a skirt, sometimes.

I want to be able to choose which I wear. Skirts and pants each have disadvantages, and I'd hate to be limited to one or the other. Skirts are cold in winter; pants are hot in summer. Skirts snag on things and get in the way, but pants don't give the extra fabric for holding kittens, hiding a puppy, or tenting over my feet when mosquitoes come around. Skirts rarely have pockets, but things slide out of pants pockets if I sit the wrong way. I feel pretty, feminine, and respectable in a skirt, but in trousers I am an adventurer, prepared to climb a tree, battle a berserk billy-goat, or forge a trail through the wilderness--or at least the south pasture.

The dress code has gradually relaxed in the past year or two. My family still doesn't like it when I wear pants, but it's been awhile since anyone really harassed me about them. My choices are still somewhat restricted, but I'm on my way to freedom. Someday, my choice of clothes will be entirely up to me.

(Printed in 2012 edition of Illuminations)

Sometimes I think about this little essay, and about the fact that I now identify as genderqueer, after years of thinking I liked stories about girls disguised as boys because it was an excuse for girls in traditional historical settings to take the freedom of dress and behavior that boys had. Would I have figured it out faster if I had been allowed to cut my hair and choose my clothes? I've spent the last six, seven years experimenting with my own style, gradually pushing those childhood boundaries, figuring out what I really liked. I didn't know I could be truly happy with my hair until last spring, when I finally went full Anne Hathaway pixie, although the previous haircut (my first ever) was a fun exploration. It's been a process of figuring out what felt right, and still is--except now the level of right I've reached is tattoos and ey/em pronouns and dancing with girls on the weekend, while I try to explain the difference between sex and gender to my husband over Christmas vacation.