When I was in middle school, my best friend was a cosplayer.
I always wanted to meet her, and one day I met her in person at a convention.
I wanted to see her and I got the urge to make her my girlfriend.
It was the beginning of a friendship that lasted about 10 years, but it was also the beginning a long and dark journey that would culminate in a tragic suicide.
At the time, I was working at a tech company and had no money to buy my hair or clothes, so I went to a cos-shop.
The cos-store was full of young, attractive women.
It wasn’t until the end of my time there that I met the young, beautiful cosplayer I wanted.
But at that moment, I couldn’t take the girl home.
Her name was Hayley and she had curly hair that looked like the hair of a horse.
I remember crying as I saw her at the store, and it was the first time I truly realized that she was a girl, not just a guy.
My heart broke.
I knew that the girl I wanted would have to suffer as a result of my decision, and so I started asking questions.
What if she were to get a haircut?
What if her hair looked different?
Would she be able to dance like the girls in the store?
Would that make her feel more comfortable?
Would they notice her?
Would it be OK to call her Hayley?
What would I say to her?
What could I do to help her?
I wanted her to be happy, so Hayley’s journey ended in despair.
When I moved to California, I decided to ask a few friends what they thought about my decision to get my hair dyed and dye my hair black.
They said, “Well, we don’t know if that would be okay, so we’d be more than happy to dye her a blonde.”
I asked them, “Do you think you could dye her blonde?”
One friend answered, “Of course.”
So I asked my friends what their feelings were.
They all said yes.
It didn’t take me long to understand that I was wrong.
What I didn’t understand was that I had made a mistake.
What did it mean to be a girl?
The definition of a girl is different than the definition of what it means to be male or female.
For the last 20 years, I have lived my life with both definitions.
I was born male and grew up with my mother being a lesbian.
In my childhood, my sister and I were often teased by boys for being girls.
One day I was sitting with my sister, wearing makeup, when we were asked what color our hair was.
I thought it was funny, because I had been teased by girls for being a boy growing up.
I realized I was wearing makeup when a girl in a makeup store asked me the same thing, and I told her I didn, too.
The girl in the makeup store said, in an incredibly rude manner, “You’re not wearing makeup.
You’re just a girl.”
So, when I was growing up, I became a girl and it wasn’t about who I was or who I wanted, but rather who I felt like I was.
It is because of that feeling that I started to identify as a girl when I entered high school.
In college, I came out to my friends as a lesbian, and they told me I was going to have to live with that for the rest of my life.
I didn of course understand why they were saying that, and in retrospect, I realize that the first thing I did when I told them that was to go to a barber and get my new hair dyed.
I went back to the barber shop, but they told my mom that I didn the same, because she had been told by my friends to stop wearing makeup for the duration of my high school years.
She told me, “If you wear makeup, I’ll have to stop paying you for it, and then you’ll just get a check for the haircut.”
I felt violated, and decided to quit wearing makeup and go to therapy.
My life became a roller coaster of emotions, and at times, I felt suicidal.
The most important thing for me was that no matter what happened, I would have my girl back.
That’s why I became an activist.
I began researching gender issues in schools, and found that transgender kids were far more likely to be bullied and harassed than cisgender kids.
I started going to schools with transgender students, and was amazed at the amount of support they received.
I noticed that trans girls who were bullied were often the most depressed of the bunch, and their depressed state was often accompanied by depression.
It seemed that the more depressed the trans girl, the more likely she was to commit suicide.
I had the same problem in high school, when my friends told