‘It’s interesting how as a kid you don’t even understand it, until you’re stood in the ‘girls line’ and told again that, no, you’re one of the boys. It comes with a relief that, for once holding hands will be comfortable, with a friend, and not awkward with a boy. Of course, with a bit of laughter, because you usually discuss bras and who’s started their period, but now she is trying to make sense of you in a short wig and tights. Though mostly it brings a bitter longing for the promised femininity that you feel like you won’t be able to access anymore, instead you’re part of a different masquerade now — one that gives you room to play.’