Barbie Can Always Play With The Transformers

(I am around seven and have just moved to our family’s “nest,” a few blocks of the city housing several relative’s families. I’m not actually related to any of them; they are all stepfamily. There are several cousins near my age, mostly boys. Since I’m a girl, the only girl among them is really looking forward to meeting me because none of the boys want to play with girl toys, so I am greeted with a ton of girl toys, half of them newly bought. Unfortunately, what they didn’t know was that I am a huge tomboy, so we take the toys back to the store. That girl cousin’s mom, my aunt, tags along with us because it’s all her money.)

Aunt: “Why can’t you be normal and play with girl toys?!”

Me: “Girl toys are yuck!”

Aunt: “Then who is my daughter going to play with?”

Mom: “Who is she playing with now?”

Aunt: “The adults, sometimes classmates.”

Mom: “Look. I’m sorry, but I can’t control what my kid likes.”

Aunt: “She isn’t even your kid!”

Mom: “She’s my husband’s kid, therefore mine!”

(I run off with dad to find toys I like. I only remember my aunt simply leaving before we get back. After that, she tries her best to have her daughter not be really a part of the nest and always has an excuse not to bring her around, even on holidays. This goes on until we are in our teens. My cousin suddenly appears at our apartment door. The first thing we notice is her very short hair.)

Cousin: “I had a fight with Mom.”

Dad: “What happened?”

Cousin: “I got my hair like this.”

Dad: “Oh, I see.”

Cousin: “My mom pushes too many girly things on me! I hate it!” *to me* “I know I haven’t really played with you nor any of the boys before, but perhaps we could find something we both like? My mom’s an idiot. I could have played with all our cousins if she didn’t teach me to be girly all my life.”