Us At Midday

Never Knowing And Never Telling

My favourite Disney princess, when I was little, was never Mulan or Jasmine or Aurora, it was Ariel. I was fascinated by the concept of somebody who felt like they weren't in the right place, and would do anything to find their true place in the world.
I never felt like I was in the wrong body, although I felt insecure. I was just in the wrong place. Just like Ariel.

I wished my parents understood that.

I was at home one Saturday, when Ms Eli cancelled on English exam prep classes to go see the zoo with her family — meaning I was stuck at home.

My parents, being traditional Christian pastors, weren't the most accepting people I knew. They all kind of just ignored me a lot, like I was a ghost most of the time, and only when they wanted something, I was suddenly existing to them.
I was to be in the closet at home, I could be myself at school. I accepted it as fact, but the resentment grew. They would never use my real name, never use my pronouns and accept me for I truly was.
Maybe I should be angry, but I shoved it down.

It was 17:49 and I was lying on my bedroom floor, the light fading away from the window. Everything else blurred as I danced with my fingers. I found it beautiful. No other word described that moment than maladaptive.
Came home to lay on the floor, music banging on my eardrums.

Not all trans people are the same. Felt that I should start with that.
Not all of them were skinny and white. I wasn't even white, I was just really pale — which was something my mum complained about.

But something, something made sense when I figured it out. Like a piece of a jigsaw puzzle that was missing under a table, it got found. I wondered if it was the same, the one thing all trans people had in common.

It was beautiful nonetheless, the way my fingers painted the last light with slow shadows.

There was too much to say as the bass boomed and her voice cooed my mind to ease. Thinking be damned.
I felt as though I was drowning into the ground, a less ethereal spectacle than a normal person. I reached up again. Hands were hard to draw. I didn't know why.

My weight shifted to my rear, eager with this new inspiration. To draw, to write, to create.

My parent's holy warnings are nothing but prattle to me now. The ravings of a mad man at best. But truthfully? I would've crawled on my knees through hell and back for Soleil.

I wondered if that's how he'd feel about me, if I was worth it to him.
Guess I would never know.