When I was a baby my mom would dress me in pink and purple dresses, and my dad would take me snowmobiling and hunting. Needless to say, my dad won. I have been going hunting with him since I was eight years old, and before that I was the first one to jump in the back of the truck to see the animals he brought home. Every birthday I would count down the years until I could take my hunters safety course.
I opened my present on my twelfth birthday to find the disk with the course on it! I was beyond excited. I was then told to be ready by noon to go to Humboldt for the other piece of my gift. Anxiously, I hopped into the truck and waited. The closer we got the more anxious I was. When we arrived I found out that I was going to receive my very own rifle! It was a black Remington 7mm-08. I was so proud of my new gun, and I could not wait to show my mom! When I got home I carefully placed it on the kitchen table and my dad was smiling at how excited I was. My mom on the other hand rolled her eyes, but I could still see a smile on her face. She said “I can’t believe we bought my daughter a rifle! What happened to my little girl in dresses?” I then told her that I never liked dresses anyways, and this was the best birthday present ever!
I told anyone I could about my gift. When it came time for school I told all of my friends. The only ones who cared were the boys. At about the same age I also fell in love with Alexander Ovechkin, and my eyes were glued to sports center every morning. Therefore, every morning at school consisted of two topics: the upcoming hunting season, and what was on sports center that morning. I was considered “one of the guys”, and that was a compliment to me. If girls wore dresses, did their hair, and were afraid to get dirty then I didn’t want to be a girl. I was very insulted if I was ever called girly. I was constantly told I was doing boy things, but with my stubborn attitude I would only do those things more to prove that girls can do them too. It was always a great feeling coming back to school with your pictures of your buck on your phone. It was especially satisfying if your horns were bigger than a boys. Regardless of who won, I still love the pictures of me sitting next to my buck with a big, proud smile on my face, an antler in one hand, and my rifle in the other.