The question for Day Three: “Who was your first real-life crush?”
I had a few hard crushes, but the first? I think it would have to be Jennifer Docherty. I have no idea what’s happened to her, but fourth-grade me didn’t have a chance. She and I had known each other since nursery school. She had blond hair, wore jeans instead of skirts, and she was way, way, way cooler than I would ever be. She played soccer better than most boys, climbed trees, and took nothing from ANYONE. Plus, she had a 12-inch Boba Fett action figure. I hope she’s out there somewhere, doing exactly what she wants with who she wants, and that she’s happy.

The question for Day Two: “How old were you when you first discovered you were LGBTQ?”

28. I mean, I should have known. If I were growing up today, when the word “transgender” is out there in the world, and what it means to be trans is more accessible, someone might have figured it out. As it was, the only person who deduced it was an ex-Army sniper who stunned me when he said “Yeah, I always figured you had a gender problem. Glad you worked it out.”

I started this challenge late, on the sixth day, so I’m playing catch-up right now. The question for Day One: “Share your name, age, and identity. Share a picture of yourself.”

My name’s Christine Frances Stewart, born Christopher James Hedberg. I’m 44 years old, and I am a late-onset transgender woman and a lesbian. For those who know about such things, I technically fit the criteria for autogynephilia, but think that it’s a bogus diagnostic category. And as for the picture, this is as good a description as any:

If you had ever doubted it, here’s evidence that I am either a toon or a muppet.

So over on Facebook, some friends started doing a cool activity for this month of LGBT Pride. Every day, they’re each answering a different question about their queer history, drawn from this list. I started it on Facebook, but…well, I’m a writer, and I take my words seriously. Some of these answers deserve the real treatment, with thought and drafts and rewrites. They deserve to be remembered. They deserve to be real stories. So I’m going to post them here and rewrite them until…well, until they show my true pride.