In the Wrong Skin

When I was a child, I didn’t even realize that I was different - children are innocent like that. At least up until someone points out their shortcomings.
In my case, it was our neighbor.
“You’re wearing a skirt, dear,” she exclaimed, her curls bobbing as she shook her head. When I gave her a wide-eyed look, she clarified: “Skirts are for girls!”
“But I am a girl,” I said.
That night, my mom sat me down to explain. That was when I realized that I was in the wrong skin - that most girls didn’t look like boys on the outside.