Playing music was the most beautiful way I’d watched people express connection and togetherness. I had a persistent fantasy of playing guitar and singing for someone I loved. I couldn’t have articulated that, and I wouldn’t have dared to anyway.
Maintaining that I hated boys, at twelve, gave me the space to puzzle my feelings out in private. I wouldn’t be some stupid idiot, babbling all day long about some mean boy who would only make fun of me. Instead, I had a big crush (endorsed by my two best friends) on…