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Pretty in Pink–And a Boy
by Rylynn Walters
My gender identity isn’t easy to explain. I feel more like a boy, but I was assigned female at birth, and I’ve never minded looking like a girl. Even as a child, I loved being pretty and wearing dresses, especially pink ones.
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Hellfire and Homophobia
by Luck
Names have been changed. As a little kid, I hung around girls and envied the ones with perfect, straight hair. When I complimented their hair, they’d say, “You’re weird.” Boys noticed too, and starting when I was 8, they called me “gay.”
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Accepting That I’m Autistic
by Anonymous
Names and identifying details have been changed. Five months after I left my mom’s house and moved in with my aunt, I had to get a psych evaluation. It was one of many new things I had to face as I entered the foster care system.
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What Family Means to Me
by Emily Taveras
Names have been changed. My first childhood memory is being in a strange room with other kids crying. I entered the foster care system when I was 2 years old, and the memories I have of growing up in care are mostly fragmented, glued-together pieces.
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Taking the Risk to Trust
by Nathalea Sky
When I entered foster care at 16, I felt confused. The adults around me saw me as a child all over again. Now, I had a curfew. I had to obey the rules set by my agency and my foster mother.
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Learning to Trust Myself
by Anonymous
Names have been changed. Growing up, I believed my family was a close one. My siblings and I spent time together, and we traveled every year to new places as a family. We lived in an apartment in East Harlem and I felt comfortable living with my parents, who mostly seemed to care for me.