An excerpt from, obviously: I could not possibly have known I was trans as a child. When my friends and I went through the normal developmental stage of trying to set household items on fire during eighth-grade sleepovers, we always used Bath & Body Works cucumber-melon spray as an accelerant. What could have been more womanly than that? If pressed to think about the subject further, I imagine I might have considered it a net positive for female representation among pubescent firebugs and nascent arsonists. The closest I came to expressing anything remotely along the lines of a desire to transition was trying to open a savings account in the fourth grade under the name “Savannah Hall” while my mother was in line at the bank, and later spelling my given name with one “L” instead of two on all of my seventh-grade homework assignments. The savings account never took, but Savannah received promotional mailers from the Bank of America well into high school.
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