A difficult child

The other day, I bought some queer books, and I suddenly felt invincible. I wanted to shout how proud I was on the street while walking home. My heart burst out from love and kinship for my fellow trans and queer friends, and I realised once again that I don’t need to define myself and that I can be whoever I want to be. I realised the power and the potential there is in building your own identity, the rebellion even, in not only escaping the standards, but also refusing to put a word, a label on what you are.

If you have an idea of what it’s like to be confused regarding your own gender identity, you will probably understand my identity without me expressing it. If you don’t, well I don’t feel the need to put a fancy, easy little word dismissing the complexities of my identity, just for it to be more palatable to you. I am trans and I am queer, but I refuse to define myself further just so society can classify me and comprehend me and confine me to something they are comfortable with.

I didn’t care about what anyone else thought. I felt powerful, I felt like I had finally found my place.

My parents made me feel I was a difficult child

Is there really a child that is not difficult?
A child who doesn’t make any noise and doesn’t make a mess and never cries and doesn’t tear the paper napkins into a thousand little pieces of paper and doesn’t throw those little flakes to the ceiling because look it’s snowing?

I tried to behave
To be a good child, a nice child
To make myself small and silent
Paper thin and transparent
Invisible
But that wasn’t fun
I couldn’t exist within those constraints
I had to make noise, and be free

Now, along the way, I have finally understood why they wanted me to behave
I know it’s the only power they have over us, to keep us in line
The words and the looks and the judgements

They lost their grip on me
When I realised their eyes were just eyes and their hands were just hands
And I could escape them

The second I stopped listening
I was free

Take their power away like I did
It doesn’t have to be big
It doesn’t have to be bold
Existing is the first step

Take their power by writing your words
Don’t let yourself be confined
Make noise
Turn your body into whatever you want it to be
Find your own name and shout it from the rooftops
Show your colours and make your own kind of music
Don’t let them mold you into something you’re not
Be a difficult child