I am the child confused by the world.
The one who learned to disappear.
I am the daughter who never quite knew her place within the family.
The perfect child who just wanted to make everyone happy.
I am the Mother who grew up with her son.
The one who always found a way.
I am the writer struggling to find her voice.
The one who kept it hidden inside journal after journal.
I am the photographer who feels like a tourist.
The one searching to find her confidence in the composition.
I am the butch on the street.
The one that makes you wonder, “Is that a man or a woman?”
I am the dyke on the bike.
The one moving fluidly between genders.
I am everyone’s brother and no one’s lover.
A solitary being with a simple desire to love and be loved.
I am unlocking the doors.
Dismantling the walls.
I am learning to love myself.
Living out loud.