At age 4 my main playmate Jean wore her hair in long braids almost every day. Jean was a tomboy and often visited me with my bigger play yard and possibly for my more interesting toys. I don’t remember that I was envious but I could not have helped but notice that when her mom braided Jean’s hair she was getting attention of a kind that I couldn’t.
At age 6 in school in England I noticed that a boy classmate had bobby pins in his hair to hold his cap, and envied that he was wearing definitively girl things. When we returned to Canada own hair was for me, long. Left with my grandmother, I asked her to put bobby pins in my hair, which she did. I couldn’t sense them in place, nor that they fell out. Shortly later on a rural vacation I put hay on my head and told my parents that this was how I would look as a girl. I wasn’t clear that this was how I wanted to look. Instead my dad cut my hair military-short for years. During age 7 I often daydreamed that some magical machine would give me long braids and a dress; not of becoming a girl, only of looking like one. This daydream ceased. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.