You grew up Catholic, your parents were very traditional people, always droning on about how proper ladies should act and about sinning.

Everyone saw you as a girl, everyone told you how to be, so you listened, fighting your own desires to please everyone else and be accepted by your family and friends.

But Simon knew, he knew exactly what you really were. No matter how hard you’d tried ignoring it.

And he was going to turn you into a man. He would show you how to be yourself.

The world had taught you to be soft and fragile. He would fix that, he would make you a tough guy. He taught you how to fix cars, cut your hair real nice and short for you, and even helped you bind. He started getting you to work out, trying to make you manly.

Everytime someone called you a girl, he corrected them immediately. Always with a smack on the back of your neck for letting them. He didn’t let you say you were a girl, or deny your masculinity. He wanted you to be loud with it.

You two were in his garage, both on the floor tangled together, wrestling. He said it was manly. You bit him, but he slammed your face against the floor. “Mutts bite, not men.” He scowled, shifting to put you in a headlock. “This is what men do— men are loud, they’re strong.”

“You wanna be a boy so bad? Then take it like a man.”