"Come on Chickadee! Grab your bag, we gotta go!" Erin heard her father, Spencer, call from the living room.

"I'm coming!" Her 10-year-old self replied, grabbing her bag of clothes. She headed to where she heard her father calling, and saw him tightening the straps of the bag on his shoulders. He looked up at her and smiled. "Ready for our monthly camping trip!?"

Erin nodded her head in reply. "Can we actually buy food this time?"

Her dad runs a hand through his brown hair. "No, I want to make sure you can survive on your own. We do have some, but we need to learn whats okay to eat, and what's not. Remember?" This caused his daughter to sigh and nod.

Before long, they were leaving the house, locking the front door behind them. The duo walked up to their red Toyota Tundra, loaded up the vehicle and hopped in.

After an hour drive, they made it to their usual campsite, a random clearing in the middle of the woods. There was no trail, and nobody knew about it, so they had to four-wheel their way to that spot. All that was there was an old, rusted car that had been abandoned, and a circle of rocks filled with ash left over from their previous visits. They climbed out of their vehicle and set up camp.

They only had one tent and a large sleeping bag that had a flannel inside. But that was okay, they knew that sharing a tent and bag would be warmer than sleeping alone. Spencer took out the tent and laid it on the ground, getting ready to set it up.

It didn't take long for the two to set up their little camp and gather firewood. "Alright Erin, take my ax, it's about time you learned how to use it." Her father said, handing it to his daughter. She took it slowly, allowing herself to get adjusted to the weight of the tool in her hands. "Really?" She asked, a spark lighting in her eyes. Her father laughed in response, grabbing the ax again.

"Alright, so what you do is stand with your feet shoulder length apart. Then you raise your hands above your head, holding the ax with bent arms. Now you do a practice swing, where you slowly bring the ax down," he explained, demonstrating while he went along, "now you keep your non-dominant hand at the bottom of the handle, where the bump is, So your right hand. Then, you have your dominant hand at the top under the actual head, on the neck. As you swing, you reach a moment where your hands are directly above your head, you start to loosen your grip on the neck, and bring your hand down, having gravity do the hard work for you. It will pull the ax down, so, as the ax meets the log, your dominate hand meets your other hand." He did as he explained and swung the ax down, his right hand sliding down the handle to meet his left hand, as the head of the ax landed in the log he was using. He then handed it to his daughter, letting her try.

Erin grabbed the ax, and did as her father showed. She centered her feet and raised her arms above her head, elbows bent. She took a deep breath and swung the ax downward, her hands meeting at the bottom of the handle. The blade of the ax missed the log, and swung in between her legs, causing her to let go out of fright. Erin let out a squeak of surprise before straightening up and looking at her father. "I'm so sorry!" She exclaimed, expecting to see a mad, or worried, expression.

Instead, she saw a calm face, with a small smile greeting her. "It's okay, you did great, but you didn't test the distance between your full swing and the log. This is why we stand with our legs wide. It's okay though," he grabbed the ax, handing it to her again, "try again."

And so she did, for about an hour they were walking away at the fallen tree, gaining enough firewood for their two-day stay. By the time they started to head back, the sun started to set. "It's time to head back chickadee." Spencer finally said. Erin nodded, collecting their firewood for the night.

When they got back to their camp, Erin started to arrange the wood they got in a pyramid form, and they placed a handful of pine needles, which they picked up along the way, under it for a fire starter. Grabbing some flint that they had in their survival kit, she struck it with the ax multiple times near the needles, before a spark appeared and landed on one. She then stopped and began to blow lightly on the small speck of light before her, starting the fire.

She then sat next to her dad and lay her head against his chest, enjoying the newfound heat. They sat there in silence for a while, watching as the world around them grew dark. It wasn't until the stars started to appear that Erin spoke.

"Dad?"

"Yes, Chickadee?"

"Can I tell you something?" She looked up at her father, waiting for a response, after earning a nod, she continued. "I don't feel comfortable when people call me a girl."

Spencer looked down at his ten-year-old in surprise. "Than would you like me to call you he?"

Erin shook her head, "No, I don't feel like a guy either. I just kinda feel like... a neither. I don't like the same things girls my age do, I don't care about clothes or boys or movies, or hanging out with friends really. But I don't feel much like a guy either. Sports and video games and girls aren't interesting to me at all. I don't like being put on the girl's side of the class because the boys always look like their having more fun, but I don't want to be on the boy's side because the girls aren't as ridiculous and think more. I don't feel comfortable as either..." Erin started to trail off. "Am I weird dad? Is there something wrong with me?"

Spencer looked down at his beautiful child, a kind smile on his face. "No Erin, you're not weird. You're perfect, okay? You might not be like everybody else, but that's ok. I respect how you feel, and I understand it. I love you for all your decisions, and I always will, alright? So tell me what you'd like me to call you, and I'll do it. Whatever gender you want me to enroll you as in school, I'll go through with it, ok?"

Erin now had tears in their eyes. They couldn't imagine that their father would understand, but he did, and it felt amazing. They wiped their tears from their eyes before responding. "I want you to call me your daughter, I'll always be your daughter, it would feel weird to be anything else to you, but I wanna be called they. I think that's the right pronouns.. they and them... And their. That's what I'd like." They look into the fire, a smile on their face.

"Alright. I'll do that then. Come on, it's getting late, We should sleep." Erin heard their father say this before feeling their side become cold, and sensing the emptiness beside them as they continued their gaze into the fire.