I exist

I feel like I'm not allowed to exist.

I'm told I don't. Trans and Queer people are just villains, evil people you have never met. We are painted as pedophiles and shooters. We are seen as unnatural, as sinners. We are not seen as human.

Why is a man allowed to love a woman, but I'm not? I'm told the way I love is a phase, something I better grow out of unless I want to face eternal damnation. But it is the only way I know how to love.

I'm not allowed to love others.

Why can a woman have a breast reduction, but I can't? Why am I forced to choose a role that makes me want to never be seen by the light of day? I'm told I'm just a tomboy with a jealousy of men, wanting the things I cannot have.

I'm not allowed to love myself.

I am told non-binary people need to choose a role. That there is something wrong with my brain. It is seen as a privilege for people to use my chosen pronouns, that I am needy and sensitive for not wanting to be misgendered or deadnamed.

I'm not allowed to be myself.

I am told bisexual people need to make up their minds. That they are confused and need to figure out exactly what they want. My lover is bisexual she is one of the sweetest people I've come to know. She knows exactly what she wants, the type of men, women, and genderqueer people she likes. She cares for me so dearly, I cannot fathom the way she treats me as a bad thing.

I'm not allowed to be loved.

How am I to exist, to be a person? I guess that's why everyone feels the need to tell me who I am. But they don't know me at all.

They don't know how dearly I care for my lovers, how I adore them. The women I have loved are not temptresses, nor confused souls. Our love is sweet and gentle. They are loving kind women, people who have seen me and said I want you, all of you, you are worth the pain. I want to shield them from the hate of the world. Never let them feel hurt or scared for who they are. They feel like sunshine, or a cool breeze on a summer day. My lovers past and present, have made me feel so much, made me feel so alive.

They don't know how at home I feel in my body when it is only seen by those who know me, the ones who love me, and see me for who I truly am. It means everything to me. I don't hate my body, I appreciate the things it does for me, and how it lets me experience life. It is my home, one I never planned to live in, but one I love. It has its quirks and isn't always the most comfortable place to live, but I've found ways to truly enjoy living in it. I've cut my hair, started working out, changed my name, chosen new pronouns, started dressing differently; so many little things.

My love hurts no one, the way I identify is harmless, but they still fear me. I am a queer non-binary person, someone who loves women and themself. My people love me, they let me be myself, and love me, not despite it, but because it is part of who I am. I refuse to hide myself, to pretend I am someone I am not. I will never apologize for who I am. I am a human being.

I'm allowed to exist.