Two very similiar ideas:

My senior year of high school was spent in the guise of Amelia Fletcher: super short hair, oversized glasses, and striped t-shirts. The A-line skirts were usually swapped for brown StaPrests (Alameda still got cold) and I'd top everything off with a hoodie, sweater, or jean jacket. I was walking to school one day, swinging my JAL carry-on bag, thinking I looked so cute, when I overheard two girls behind me:

Girl #1: I like that boy's bag.
Girl #2 (whispering): That's a girl.

CUT TO

Derek and I were walking to catch a train on our way to a Raccoons show. Arm in arm; both wearing normal, super casual clothes. As we crossed Taraval, a dude leaned out of his packed car and screamed, "GAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYY!"

Honestly, I thought at first he had said, "Yay!" and was just really excited to be driving around the Sunset at night. But no, he thought I was a boy. Well, he either thought that I was a tiny, curvaceous boy or that Derek was a gigantic, bearded lady.

Should I be concentrating on the blatant homophobia of the last event, or is it reasonable for me to stamp my foot, arms akimbo, and demand why I've been mistaken for a boy, twice in the past 9 years? Do I need to shrug off the social constructs of gender identity and embrace my androgyny? Do I need to have long hair and a ball gown in which to walk to the train station to be recognisable as a pretty, female lady? Should it matter?

I have a very handsome boyfriend who thinks I'm beautiful. I've been paid to model and I've been cast in acting roles that describe my character as "pretty." I've also been told that while I'm cute, I'm not tall enough to to be sexy or beautiful. Why do the negative comments by people I couldn't care less about negate the feelings of most important person in my life? AND WHY DO I CARE IN THE FIRST PLACE??