{"componentChunkName":"component---src-templates-story-js","path":"/story/eliza-e/","result":{"pageContext":{"data":{"id":"-85467eca-88c8-5829-9a22-3a5b4abcdf61","authorFirstName":"El","storyTitle":"EL(IZA)","photo":{"asset":{"url":"https://cdn.sanity.io/images/nr9digz2/production/1ddf4eb0bff748b1efdc3d8d56b0792711ebc708-1500x1000.jpg"}},"audio":{"asset":{"url":"https://cdn.sanity.io/files/nr9digz2/production/e228dcb78d0a2fe6f02b1e65c11053e6ad20f3d3.mp3"}},"secondLanguageAudio":{"language":"English","audio":null},"school":{"name":"Appomattox Regional Governor's School for the Arts and Technology","city":"Petersburg","location":"Virginia"},"tags":["Appearance","Gender and Sexuality","Friendship and Kindness"],"_rawText":[{"_key":"c7ff8e37362e","_type":"block","children":[{"_key":"0e5794a523cd0","_type":"span","marks":["strong"],"text":"When people see me, it’s hard for them to figure out if I am a girl or a boy, though when eventually forced to choose, they more times than not decide on the latter, my presentation considered more masculine; nevertheless, when I look in the mirror, it’s hard to escape the freckled blonde girl, barely 11, her sun-kissed cheeks framed by her platinum blonde hair that barely reaches her shoulder blades. Eliza Nae. She has two loving parents, a dog, and two cats—a picture-perfect life. Eliza was happy, or she wanted to be happy. But when she looks in the mirror, an ache occurs in the pit of her gut, her eyes dull with emotion as she tucks her hair beneath the confines of a hat. Eliza likes how she looks that way. As she hears footsteps pass the cracked bathroom door, the ache subsides, her heartbeat frantic as the beanie is discarded, her hair falling back into place."}],"markDefs":[],"style":"normal"},{"_key":"823ea64e79a1","_type":"block","children":[{"_key":"5def9069f6c00","_type":"span","marks":["strong"],"text":"There Eliza was, sitting in the backseat of her dad’s old truck. It regularly needed repairing, but her father had an innate love for it. He had fixed it as many times as he had to, even if simply getting a new one remained the logical choice. There they were, moments before her dad dumped her onto the grounds of a sleepaway camp. “Do I really have to do this?” she’d murmur, her lips pursed in annoyance. Fear was the dominant force running, fueling her bitterness, but Eliza refused to confess so. If she had, he’d feel bad and assume she needed consoling. She didn’t. It wasn’t until they drove down the one-way road leading into the sleepaway camp that Eliza began to cry. After about an hour of holding it in, she couldn't bear it any longer. And there came the pity."}],"markDefs":[],"style":"normal"},{"_key":"8106c1499745","_type":"block","children":[{"_key":"abc9df1a28100","_type":"span","marks":["strong"],"text":"Next thing she knew, Eliza stood in the open door of the bright green cabin, an old duffel bag tight against her shoulder, strands of her hair captive beneath the strap. Her gaze was slightly concealed by a baseball cap, frizz sprouting from the hair that remained present. She felt the eyes of about a dozen girls glance her way before quickly darting back to unpacking their own belongings. As Eliza searched for an empty bunk, she met the gaze of another girl. The stranger had long curly brown hair, her smile as bright as the neon sweatshirt that was neatly wrapped around her waist. “I’m Andie!” she began as she stuck out her hand, her smile somehow causing Eliza’s resentment to hinder, her lips curling into a matching grin. They became best friends on the spot, bonding over almost every aspect of their lives. It was something Eliza had never experienced, a natural attraction to another person. The closest thing to a soulmate."}],"markDefs":[],"style":"normal"},{"_key":"7fa342abdcf0","_type":"block","children":[{"_key":"b722940a7cb90","_type":"span","marks":["strong"],"text":"One day, as they sat on her bed talking about some story the both of them had read prior to camp, Eliza felt a burst of what she could only assume was confidence. “I don’t think I’m a girl,\" she spouted, eyes widened as if she had confessed to a crime."}],"markDefs":[],"style":"normal"},{"_key":"22d5a8ddf6e8","_type":"block","children":[{"_key":"3c94d4cf04970","_type":"span","marks":["strong"],"text":"“Oh, ok…” Andie muttered, her brows furrowing into what Eliza hoped wasn’t disgust. Just as Eliza could offer a retort, possibly an explanation in the form of a joke, she watched as Andie’s face lit up as an idea seemed to hit her. “If you aren’t a girl, wouldn’t you need a different name?” The thought had never occurred to her. A new name. Well, after about a half hour of brainstorming, they decided on El. It was Andie’s idea actually."},{"_key":"019ba9fc0bd10","_type":"span","marks":[],"text":"\n"},{"_key":"5a5f475e02f10","_type":"span","marks":["strong"],"text":"We haven’t seen each other in years but have spent subsequent summers in that same camp together. I wonder if Andie knows how much she changed my life, how she is the reason I am who I am. El."}],"markDefs":[],"style":"normal"},{"_key":"e4ba7fcaf505","_type":"block","children":[{"_key":"d381795d25460","_type":"span","marks":[],"text":"\n"}],"markDefs":[],"style":"normal"}]}}},"staticQueryHashes":["3309388390","890781507"]}