I was born on March 17, 1979, in upstate New York, to Irish Roman Catholic parents. My dad is Irish and my mom's heritage is Irish along with many other nationalities ranging from the Americas to Asia. She has often said that she is "Heinz 57", and she's not far off.

Being born on the day of the Feast of St. Patrick was very exciting, especially on my father's side of the family. They were going to name me Patrick, but they were afraid that children would make fun of me since I was born on St. Patrick's Day. Mercifully, they decided to name me Mickey instead. All joking aside, while growing up I actually liked that name because it is androgynous, like me.

My androgynous appearance comes from the fact that all of my sexual organs are very small and non-functional. Because of my androgynous appearance and girly behavior, I never really fit in with anybody.

Well, that's not completely true, as I do have my family, and my home is like a safe place away from the rest of the world. I love my family, and while growing up I had a bond with my paternal grandmother, or Nanny as I called her especially. When I was a newborn baby, I reached out and grabbed my Nanny's finger. We were close ever since.

The closeness to my entire family only grew larger months later when I got a severe case of croup. I couldn't breathe on my own, and the doctors had to put me into a tank ventilator. My mother told me that she would cry when the machine made its breaths for me. She wanted to hold me and comfort me, but I was stuck in my iron lung. She did put a toy sun that would play "You Are My Sunshine" by the machine to comfort me. I don't know if it's a subconscious memory of being in the machine, or just of my mother's story that causes it, but I still smile whenever I hear that song.

My sister was born when I was two. I learned to walk pretty quickly, and my mother told me that I taught my sister how to walk by walking while holding her as she walked along with her feet on top of my feet.

I also learned to swim early, but I actually learned to sink first. We have an in-ground pool that my parents put in before I was born. When I was a baby, I fell into the pool and sunk down to the bottom of the shallow end. I was just staring up at my parents from the bottom of the pool, smiling at them. They picked me up and acted happy so that I wouldn't be afraid of water. It worked because I'm like a fish when I'm in the water. Both my sister and I spend hours in the pool in the summer.

Swimming was one thing that made me realize girls dressed differently from boys. Girls, like my mother and sister, wore swimsuits that covered the top of their bodies. Boys, like my father, just wore shorts into the pool. I was dressed in shorts too, like the boy my parents told me I was, but I felt oddly naked. I felt that I should wear a swimsuit like my mother and sister wore.

My father also taught me how to take a shower when I was three years old. He told me that I didn't need conditioner because boys don't have long hair like girls. I wanted long hair like my mother.

It is moments like these that made me realize that I was different. I was told by my parents that I'm a boy, but I have always felt in my heart and soul that I am a girl.

My gender identity only strengthened since then. When I was four and went to Pre-K, my parents enrolled me at Our Lady of Lourdes Catholic elementary school. The girls in my class all wore plaid jumper dresses with dainty white ankle socks and mary jane shoes. However, I was forced to wear the boy's uniform which consisted of navy blue slacks, a white pullover shirt, white crew socks, and dress shoes. That remained the uniform in kindergarten and then up to sixth grade. I hated it. I wanted to wear what the girls wore so badly. When it was cold out, girls wore the school's gym sweatshirt and sweatpants with the skirt of the jumper showing. Boys could wear the sweatshirt as well, so I would put on my sister's jumper under my gym clothes. Luckily, I always kept it hidden so I was never caught doing so.

Because I was different, my classmates all mostly ignored me. Well, I should say everyone ignored me except for my best friend Laura. We sat on the other side of the room from each other in class, but whenever we were in gym class, we would always team up together. When school was over we even went to each other's houses. I loved going over to her house because we played in the cool little playhouse that she had in her backyard. It's so much fun. Our parents acted like we were boyfriend and girlfriend, but Lauren didn't think that.

She treated me just like the girl I was. We played house, we played hopscotch, jumped rope, and sang rhymes. It's all the stuff that I wanted to do at recess in school, but couldn't. I just sat on the swings when the grass is dry and we were allowed on the playground or just stood on the other side of the church parking lot during recess when the ground is too wet and we couldn't play there. I'd look at the girls playing their games and I wanted so much to join in. That's why I liked Laura so much. She knew that I was a girl even though I couldn't do girls' stuff at school, no matter how much I wanted to. So, we played the fun girls' games whenever we got together outside of school.

I was looking forward to going back to school with Lauren when we entered third grade. However, she just moved away that summer, and I was devastated. I was left alone to go back to school with no friends and no way to be myself.

I did try to look on the bright side like my Nanny always said. I couldn't be myself at school, but I could be myself when I was home. As I said, my home was my safe haven. My sister was a big part of that. Beginning when I was 6 and my sister was 4, we would play together all the time. In fact, she's the only person to whom I ever introduced the real me. She is named Jenny. My sister had an imaginary friend named Helen. She wasn't Helen like I was Jenny, but she was her friend. She talks to Helen in front of our family. I wish I could introduce Jenny to my parents, but I didn't feel I could ever do that. I did girl things with my sister in front of my parents but I felt I could never tell them I knew I was a girl since they always reminded me that I was a boy.

My sister was different though. I could be myself in front of her. When we played in her room, she let me dress in her clothes. The first thing I ever wore of hers was a white leotard. She gave it to me to put on, and I put it on quickly, and happily. I stood there grinning like the Cheshire cat, and my smile only got bigger when she told me that I made a cute girl. She was right. Even though I couldn't be myself when I'm outside of our house, I AM a cute girl.