A few years ago, I was sitting with my friend outside of our school. It was pretty hot that day, so we’d taken refuge in a shaded corner far from where the other kids usually gathered. We were just hanging out and the topic eventually wound its merry way along to wishes and genies, regular childish stuff.
Looking back, I realize that we were really thoughtful for our age. I think that was partly why we hung out with each other so much. Thoughtfulness isn’t really valuable to most children except when it allows you to help them on their homework. If you’re not one of those kids, they’ll usually stick you where you belong, that is, right on the bench halfway outside campus. I think we were both glad to have someone to share it with, so we were both eager to please.
“Three wishes is way too easy,” he said. “What would you do if you had only one wish?”
I thought for a little bit, then said, “You first. I can’t think of one.”
“I would probably wish for a million dollars,” he said. I asked him why, because it was unusual for him to pick such a standard wish.
“Could you keep it private?”
“For sure.”
“Well,” he said, “If we had a lot of money, my brother wouldn’t have to get another job just to pay our rent. It really sucks because now my grandparents are the only people to talk to when I get home.”
What can an eleven year old say in that situation? I told him that maybe the church elders could pray over his family and maybe God would help them pay for their rent. (We went to the same church.) He shook his head.
“My brother probably wouldn’t do it. He doesn’t think God exists anymore, even though he’s done so much for us.”
“It seems like God’s not helping you out of your jam, though.”
He looked at me as though I had said something blasphemous. I shrugged. “I really don’t see God helping me much either.”
He frowned. “What he decides is always right.”
We thought about that for a few moments, then he asked me what my wish would be. I decided that one of my only friends had told me a really personal story, so I thought it wouldn’t hurt to reciprocate.
“I wish… that I wasn’t a boy,” I said.
He didn’t freeze up, but he looked at me strangely for a few seconds.
“You mean, you want to be a girl?” he said, and his tone was almost as accusatory as when I had criticized our Lord and Savior.
“No, no, I definitely don’t want to be a girl,” I said. “I just don’t feel like I want to be a boy.”
He looked less uncomfortable and more confused, so I pushed on.
“If I wasn’t a boy or a girl, then people wouldn’t treat me like a boy or a girl. How come all the boys in our school expect me to know the names of all football players or get their meme references? Even you know them all. I hate being embarrassed when these things are expected of me.”
“But you can’t not be a boy or a girl,” he said, and he latched onto that idea as if it was solid ground. “You have to be at least one of them.”
“I guess so.”
He continued. “God made Adam and Eve, a boy and a girl. You have to be a boy or a girl.”
“Yeah, I get it. I was just telling you my wish, and they can be anything you want.”
He nodded at that and seemed mollified. “Wishes can be anything, but they’re definitely not real.”
We sat in silence for a moment and I guess he felt guilty for putting my wish down so quickly because he started up again. “I guess it would be cool to not be a boy or a girl, like a superpower. Maybe you could switch, like a shapeshifter.”
“Yeah, yeah, like a chameleon,” I said, and the conversation rapidly shifted to lizards after that. I’m pretty sure my friend doesn’t remember our talk, after all, for him it probably wasn’t memorable or important, but for me it was.
For years after that, I stuck by the claim we made that day. I agreed with him, and with most of the people in our world. There were only two things you could be, male or female.
As I’ve grown older, I’ve definitely lost some maturity, but recently I’ve gained most of it back, and with it came a revision to my beliefs. A big thing recently for my siblings is what’s been going on with J.K. Rowling and her comments on gender. My family is pretty divided on this issue, parents against kids, and maybe you could guess who supported who, but ultimately, that isn’t important.
Growing older has brought me one of the most important things in my life, and I think it brings this essential thing for everyone at some point. When we’re young, we are shaped by the forces around us, by the opinions of our friends and of our family. However, at some point, we grow older, and this brings with it a sense of self, our own identity, shaped by our own self-image, not the images projected onto us.
Now, every morning of every day, I brush my teeth, wash my face, and look into the mirror. I look deep into my own eyes, then at my face, and then at my hair, and I take a deep breath. I look away satisfied, knowing deep down inside, that wishes are real, and they have no rules.
