I Was Misgendered

It’s 2032. China invades Taiwan. America responds, and Australia gets dragged into the fray.

Supreme Ruler Andrews, First Among Equals, determines that I’m to be deployed as a front-line soldier.

I’m shipped off to Taipei in the 86th squadron – a proudly diverse group. Not in terms of military training, but in the ways that truly count: over 80% of us are either women, disabled, or children.

As I admire this fact, I wonder if the carbon from our flight has been offset. I make a mental note to follow this up.

At the front-line, our first target is a restaurant in Xinyi. As I charge up a dimly lit alleyway, I hear someone yell: ‘HE’S GOT A GUN!’

My blood boils: I identify as a woman.

I hear my commander barking orders at me through my headset, but I am too shook to respond. I literally can’t even.

I’m captured by Chinese soldiers, who are all cis men. I feel disgusted.

I tell them I plan on making a formal complaint to the UN, but they just laugh. I begin to realise that they misgendered me on purpose. The art of war.

I’m thrown in a cell. A bowl of food is shoved in after me. And just when I thought my day couldn’t get any worse, I look down: gluten.

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