Gender identification & a long rambling story about my childhood

     So, here I am; a cis female who has identified as female my whole life. My problem is this: all my life, from childhood through adolescence and then adulthood, I have been misidentified as male. Well, as a child it would piss me off when someone called me a boy. I remember the first time a waitress called me "ma'am" without having to be corrected. I was thirteen. I beamed, wide-eyed at my mom. "She called me ma'am!" My mom gently acknowledged with(tbh my memory is a bit foggy, but to the best of my recollection) "Yes, because you're a young lady." I think I asked why she recognized it, or asked if it had to do with how I was wearing my hair. I had a chin-length sort-of bob and it had a sort of styled look to it. I'd worn a headband while my hair was wet, and it dried that way. Anyway, I had some hope, after than, that as I got older and perhaps grew out my hair, that more people would recognize me as female.
     Some relevant details for clarity: I frequently cut my hair into a pixie cut. When I turned 8, I had shoulder length hair. I suppose it had been growing out since some hair cut I'd gotten at some preschool age. As a child, I was on the swim team. My summers included lots of swim meets and swim practices. Long hair required swim caps, which I was strongly opposed to putting on. I didn't particularly like how they looked, despite how vain that was. But another important detail is that I grew up  in TN, hot and humid summers. One of those hot summer nights, my long hair was making me really warm and it was hard to sleep. My mom, clipped my hair up to get it off my neck. I loved it so much, I wore my hair like it the next day. After that, I asked my mom to take me to get my hair cut. She had a friend who cut her hair. We started making trips to see her. Having short hair was so much easier to maintain, it felt like I freed up so much time. I no longer had to put my hair in pony tail before riding in our 80s convertible. I've forgotten what kind of car. I only remember that the interior was a wine red, and that my step-sister drove it when she started driving. It felt great to feel the wind on my neck but not the whip-like strands of hair.
     Something else I liked about having short hair is that my grandparents liked it, and I liked their approval. It felt very special having short red hair in common with my grandmother. But another thing about me is that I've enjoyed wearing large, baggy clothes since childhood. I also grew up in the 90s when wide legged pants were a fad. You see where I'm going? Imagine a small child who looks about 8, even though they're 12, with short red hair, an over-sized sweatshirt (from her dad) and baggy blue jeans with grass stains on the knees. I enjoy getting my hands dirty. I am not interested or knowledgeable in conventional female activities.  Somewhere along the line, I got this idea that feminine was synonymous with weak and entitled. I felt, I feel female. I just wanted to be the strong and down-to-earth kind. I only knew one way to express that.
     It's a weird line to walk; strongly identifying with traditionally masculine values while feeling inherently feminine. I value the comfort of clothes from the men's department though I'm starting to appreciate how comfortable a dress is, when it fits properly. I'm starting to appreciate tighter pants, like skinny jeans or leggings which accentuate a feminine figure. Though I still wear them with either a t shirt and plaid button up or large sweater. Only a few years ago, I was at a healthy weight on the slim side. I got cold more often than I do today, about 20 lbs heavier. When winter came, I layered up. I was misidentified as a sir and it was infuriating, but second order confusing. Why had I reacted so strongly? The dude was nice enough and apologized. We chatted about good coffee, mostly because I was a barista and he was a customer. From the outside, it seemed like a really pleasant interaction. Internally, I was doing a lot of self calming. Deep breathing, de-escalating. I asked my trans friend, after the fact, if that was a glimmer of what it was like to be misgendered, and if that sort of thing was common for him. He said it was sort of like that for him, but thankfully it didn't happen that much any more.
     So my question is this- have I been misgendered, or is this experience something else? My desire to be identified (it isn't enough to know I am, I need others to know I am) as female is strong enough that it affects how I get dressed now, how I take care of my skin and nails, the scents I choose to wear, if I wear any. I do enjoy some things conventionally female. I feel like finding more acceptable ways to express my femininity has helped my sense of identity. I've also met more people who look like me where I live now, in CO. I think I'm just growing a casually feminine look, who can really dress it up occasionally, as long as the occasion is once or twice a year. I'm of the opinion that as someone who's been called sir, boy, he/him when I am a girl who goes by she/her/hers and "ma'am", I've been misgendered. But also, I've never heard of a cis-gendered person being misgendered like this before. Maybe it happens in a way that is hard to explain. Maybe what I'm experiencing is something else. A big difference is, once I point out that someone is wrong about my gender, they accept it. I've never argued with anyone about my gender, only corrected them. That stands out to me as the biggest difference. What, then, should I call this?

And that's it for my snow-day rambling, folks!