Since the beginning of time, it's been exactly the same. Boys and girls have been separated by a specific set of rules on what they can and cannot do. Boys like pink. Girls like blue. Girls are taught to speak their mind while boys stay quiet and reserved. Boys wear dresses, girls can't. Girls are raised as the strong ones and play sports, while if a boy shows any remote interest in baseball, he is told to go back to the kitchen where he belongs. Boys have the "clean jobs" such as cosmetology and secretaries. Girls have the "messier jobs" like engineers and mechanics. For as long as I have been taught, it's always been this way. And it sucks.

I stand in the women's clothing section, shuffling through the hangers full of greys and blues. My face expresses boredom and so does my heart. All of these are the same. The same material, the same colors, the same style. My eyes wander over to the men's section, full of bright yellows and pink. Long flowing skirts and dresses fill the racks with dots of darker colored tight jeans and yoga pants. My mind goes into another dimension and before I know it, I'm standing in front of a purple quilted jumpsuit, reaching for the price tag. My hand is suddenly pulled away and I'm spun around with two strong hands. "Hey, what are you doing over here?" An unfamiliar womanly face hisses at me. "Oh, uh, I was just-" I begin to explain but she butts in with, "No, no, no. This is the men's section. There is nothing for you here. Everything you need is right behind you in the WOMEN'S section." She shoves me harshly in the direction of where I came from and walks away briskly. I take one last longing look at the jumpsuit and turn away in disappointment and continue shopping "where I belong."

I push open the wooden door of my small house I share with my older sister, Jess. I sulk in with an exasperated sigh, tired from the walk home. Both physically and metaphorically. While coming home, I must've heard at least five men get catcalled by various women all in a one mile stretch of road. Sometimes my own gender disgusts me. I don't see Jess anywhere so I toss my stuff on the counter and plop down on the sofa, switching the television on. I shuffle through the channels, most of them being sports and fashion, until I find something that catches my attention. A man and a woman dancing in rhythm. The man, smaller and more agile, seems almost fragile as he follows what his partner leads him to do. I fall into a trance-like state of awe and don't notice the large grin creeping onto my face as I grow more invested in the program. The screen suddenly cuts to black and I look over to see Jess looming over me in her football uniform, helmet under her arm. "I don't know, nor do I care, why you were watching that but mom told me I should raise you like the athletic, strong woman she meant for you to be, NOT some wimpy, little dancy kid. Get it together!" She shunned me. "I know, Jess!" I hollered after her as she made her way down the hall to take a shower. I stare off into the corner of the ceiling, a mischievous smile creeping onto my lips. I had a plan.

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The faint chatter of school kids makes my stomach churn and the backpack on my shoulders feel at least a ton as I lumber to Saint Blaise High School with my head turned to the ground and my long, copper hair hangs in front of my face like Samara Morgan. As I approach the walkway to the outside lockers, my heart begins racing. I tell myself everything is going to be fine, that no one would care. I stop for a second, making sure my uniform of a white polo shirt and navy pants was straightened. I lifted my head, revealing a full face of makeup. I begin slowly making my way past several student stopped by the lockers and brick walls, catching up and chatting. Heads turn my way and voices lower as I pass. Blood starts pounding in my ears and I begin gasping for breath as I feel their glares and gawks burning into my heart. I see them point and laugh, whispering to their friends, but I can't hear them. I can't hear anything. I feel my hands begin trembling and my chest tightening along with the feeling of choking, making it even harder to breathe. And I just make it worse. I break into a full sprint once I realise what is going on. I rush for the washrooms, feeling nauseous and dizzy. I lose my balance, falling over once I get inside the girl's washroom. I press my back against the wall and look up into the ceiling, trying to steady myself and calm down. I feel cold and heat from inside my body wash over me at the same time. I close my eyes and pulling my legs up to my chest, I bury my face into my knees and take deep breaths. After a few minutes, I feel my heartbeat begin to stabilize and the choking sensation fade. The door suddenly bursts open and I feel it almost hit me. "Audrey, are you alright?! I heard everyone talking about you in a mocking way!" I hear my best friend exclaim. I lift my head and look at her. I see realization crash over her like a wave and she stumbled backwards. "I'm alright.."

"Uhh, Great... I think I just heard the school bell ring....I,uh...better run, I don't want to be late for biology!" She hurries out of the washroom like she's seen something horrific. And I guess she has. And I also guess I might not have a best friend anymore.

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Back at home, I sit in the lounge, eyes glued to the TV screen in my room that played Dancing With The Stars. Jess was at soccer practice, so I was left alone for a few hours. I lost track of how many episodes I watched, but in reality I wasn't counting anyway. I quickly changed the channel as Jess pretty much knocked the door off its hinges entering the house. "Alright I've had enough! Audrey look at me-" I didn't. "-You are girl! Girls are not meant to dance, girls are not meant to do musical theatre, girls aren't meant to wear dresses or even wear makeup! That's all for BOYS! You should be focused on trying to get on the baseball team, or even the swim team! I saw what you were just watching and I see the makeup on your face," She shouts.

"So what?!"

"SO, IT'S WRONG!"

"So what, I was watching dancing! So what if I'm wearing makeup. SO WHAT IF I WAS LOOKING AT MEN'S CLOTHING. They're OBJECTS. Why is it such a big deal what I wear and what I like?! Clothing is just FABRIC. It's just fabric that covers your body! Makeup is just another way to express yourself, and dancing is a way of moving! There is no gender assigned to EXPRESSION! It's people like you who try to make me "normal." It's people like you who make people self-conscious. It's people like YOU who make people depressed and commit suicide. IT'S PEOPLE LIKE YOU THAT ARE ONE MORE THING WRONG WITH THE WORLD! Who says girls can't wear dresses? Can't wear makeup and paint their nails? Who says girls can't dance or join in musical theatre? Society?" I take a moment, tears welling up in my eyes. "I am so SICK of being stereotyped! So sick of being told what I can and can't do just because of the way I was born. I didn't ask to be born this way? This is just who I am! And if you can't accept that then YOU'RE the one who needs to change! Look, you're my sister and I love you, but I just need one person to love and support me. I want to wear a dress. I want to wear makeup and I need to take dance lessons at school." By this point, I'm in tears and Jess looks like she's about to be to. She then opens her mouth to say something.

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Audrey walks down the pavement outside of school, confident as ever in her newly bought white polo shirt and skirt with mixes of blues and her fall makeup. She smiles kindly at the people who sneer and take pictures of her. She strides to a boy holding a stack of dance registrations. He hands her one with a smile and she returns it brightly. A nearby girl, Stacey, gapes in awe as Audrey passes her. Stacey is filled with faith as she also walks up to the boy and shakily takes a page. Audrey's old friend scoffs at her and shoots her a disapproving look as she approaches her locker and grabs her books. Audrey shrugs them off, and tries to make a friendly conversation, but her former friend doesn't seem to care an just ignores her. Audrey closes her locker and makes her way through the swarm of kids rushing to their classes.