It’s a Boy. It’s a Girl. It’s Kmart!

I looked at the off-the-clock Kmart employee, who was purchasing several items in the line adjacent to my mother and me. I couldn’t have been older than 10.

It was mid-afternoon, and my mom decided to do some last-minute shopping before the store closed. The employee was out of uniform, which stuck out in my eyes. Their black shirt and black pants camouflaged their body shape, hiding any indication of whether they might be a boy or a girl. In my family, as with many others, gender was binary. At the time, I believed there were only boys and girls; male and female. This person, however, didn’t seem to fit into either category. My brain tried to work through the gender framework it had learned, failing to place this shopper in either binary.

My mom caught me looking and reminded me that it was rude to stare at others. I didn’t care, I was mesmerized.

In my mind, the ambiguous gender expression was confusing on a visual level. Usually, the only visual stimuli that I had to process in Kmart was which Original Gourmet Lollipop flavor I desired that day. Piña Coloda, cherry, banana split, strawberry, green apple. Why was I just as entranced by an off-duty employee shopping in a department store as I was by a small rack full of lollipops? Both seem simple on a surface level, but they became more sophisticated in my mind. Both took time and attention and processing information that may seem just visual, just details. But the possibilities both offered were endless. 

I recall asking my mom if the employee was a boy or girl. I whispered my question, trying not to be obvious. My mother explained that she thought this employee was born a woman, but didn’t present as one. I tried to look away, attempting to focus my gaze on the sea of names written on the individual papers for March of the Dimes charity donations. All of the names listed on the paper cutouts of dimes. Kevin, Max, Troy, Anna, Paul, Elizabeth, Sara. 

Even though I knew I had been staring, I was hyperfocused on this stranger. It was a dopamine hit, a serotonin boost. But through my 10-yr-old eyes, his short hair and facial piercings enticed me. Their relaxed eyes. His slight smile conveyed a level of exhaustion, like they just wanted to shop in peace. Not wanting to be bothered. Not wanting to be stared at by a young child. The small haul on the conveyer belt showed they only came here for a few things. 

Looking back on this moment now, I didn’t realize at the time that it was my first encounter where I was challenged to deconstruct my beliefs about the gender binary.

I think I didn’t know back then what being gender neutral was, but I see now as an adult that I was fascinated because I saw myself in that employee in some way; it was probably the way they dressed and expressed their gender through non-feminine traits. I think I felt jealous that I couldn’t resemble that independence. I was unaware of what would be possible for me in the future. Who I would become in the future.

As I grew up, I met another person — a Girl Scout camp counselor named Max. Max was gender neutral as well, and I eventually learned that they had chosen their name. They had a name before Max, a deadname, and they had the name they chose for themselves. At the time, I thought the idea of having a ‘nickname’, what I now know to be a preferred name, was cool. I wanted that, too. My birth name has never felt like it suited me; I used to think it was because of the meaning. But I see now that it was because it is too feminine, and I didn’t choose it for myself. I wanted to have that choice, to decide on a name that felt like me. 

Today, I exist as Kieran.  I have the freedom of choosing a name for myself, even if it isn’t my legal name. Now semi-publicly I live authentically as myself. I came out on social media recently, but strangers read me as female. Regardless, I am me, no matter what anyone else says or who they want me to be. 

I am Kieran, and no one else gets to decide otherwise for me.