Before I go out to the party I put on my eyeliner, I make sure to put it on sloppily and with the unsteady hand of someone who doesn’t usually wear eyeliner. I put on my purple tights with runs at the thighs and my worn denim jacket, I strap my messenger bag across the whole mess. I am aware that I go out looking to attract a certain type of person, maybe a butch girl, maybe a gender non-conforming person. Hopefully somebody sweet, a little gruff, someone who works with their hands. But why do I insist on putting my eyeliner on so sloppily? Why don’t I treat myself to a new jacket, maybe swap out my messenger bag for a purse? The truth is if I do find someone while I am out tonight, I want them to know that I am not good at being a girl, that there are other things about me beyond my precarious femininity that I value more, and that if things work out, I will expect them to value.