I am bisexual and to my mom that means I am "confused".
I am not confused! I am me.
To my older sister, me being bisexual means my girlfriend can't be labeled my girlfriend at family gatherings. My girlfriend has to be labeled as my "friend".
I am not confused! I am me.
To my older sister, her kids can't know that I am queer because it might "confuse" them. So now I am the black sheep of the family.
I am obsolete to my own niece and nephews. I am a secret to be kept.
I am written off by my own mother and older sister as some sort of great shame to the family.
I am out and proud yet to them I can't even be happy because to them I am "confused". I am not confused! I am me.

As we slowly took off each other's clothes at her place. We felt safe with each other.
As I kissed her neck and slowly kissed her ******* then her stomach, I felt free of the church's purity culture.
I felt free of the heteronormative narrative that bound this society with double standards about beauty.
For in her nakedness, she is beautiful. From her dark blue eyes to her pale, soft skin and freckles.
In our nakedness we were unashamed and safe in each other's arms.

We went to an art museum then to a park.
With every kiss I felt safe.
With every kiss I felt loved.
When she kissed my neck it felt good.
She likes hearing about my dreams.
She loves the poetry that I write for her.
In every way I am hers and in every way she is mine.

She and I kissed a lot on our first date.
With each kiss I felt more than a spark but a calming flame.
With each kiss we got more comfortable being around each other.
We went to the cities and got lunch together.
We went to the park and talked for awhile.
The date turned out better than I imagined it to be.
Our second date is next Wednesday.
We held hands at each location we went to.

So my friend and I have flirting back and forth for a while. She told that she is interested in me and I told her that I am interested in her. So I asked if she wanted to be my girlfriend and she said yes. So now she is my girlfriend.
She has light blue eyes, blonde hair, pale skin and black framed glasses.

I saw her at Goodwill yesterday while I was working.
She smiled at me and I smiled back.
I felt butterflies in my stomach all over again and I felt the old flame rising up in my heart as I gazed at her beauty.
But we aren't getting back together.
I regret nothing about our history together. In fact I am grateful that last year she was my girlfriend for a month and a half.
Even though she is my ex girlfriend I am glad I could I feel that all over again even if it was for a few seconds.

I am a high functioning autistic woman who is gender fluid and bisexual. Ever since I was little I went to therapy and got help in school. It just my mom taught me how be polite and normal.
When I am not normal and brutally honest.
When I was 7 years old my mom asked if I was gay. So I asked her what gay meant and I didn't get an answer. Ever since I was little the doctors ran every test on me to see how I was developing.
I have always been socially awkward, empathetic, sensitive to light and sounds. Music and writing is how I always expressed myself.
My mom and I never had any deep conversations because that is what school and youth group was for. My mom and I only ever talked about movies and shows. My dad always stood up to my mom for me and defended me to my mom.

No matter how you celebrate whether in hiding or among allies you are valid. I celebrate in hiding again this year but my family and friends support me. My church friends still don't know that I am bisexual. Then again I don't want my pastor to know that I am bisexual otherwise I would be kicked out of church.
I am out and proud in my town but I am in hiding at my church.
Most days I feel like both genders or somewhere in between but still me, still human; somedays, I feel like a woman and other days I feel like a man because I am a genderfluid woman. Which a whole different story. It's simple to me because I experience being genderfluid everyday. I guess anything can be simple when you experience it.
Anyways, Happy Pride Month everyone!

That which every human knows of fear, we, humans have the natural instinct to fear anything from the dark to love itself.
That which every human knows to fear love at some point in life, either from too many heartbreaks or a bad relationship that haunts your very being or both. Or simply the fear of being lonely, going from one relationship to the next without not knowing you truly are and what kind of person you want.
Or the fear of being alone, here is the thing there is a huge difference between being alone and being lonely. Being alone is a decision. Being lonely is a feeling that comes with depression. The fear of being alone is going one companion to the next because misery loves company. In a way I understand those fears because one of these fears are mine. Sometimes the only way to defeat fear is to make new friends or to stop going from relationship to relationship and figure yourself out.

He is boisterous, loud, sweet, and empathetic.
He has bright blonde hair with streaks of dark brown hair, high cheekbones, pale white skin and light blue eyes.
He is a good friend of mine.
I don't mind that he is loud when talking to me because he accepts me for being an openly bisexual woman.

He is a good friend of mine. He has been my friend since I used to work at Casey's with him.
He is reasonably smart, sweet, mindful, thoughtful and spontaneous.
He has night black hair, deep, dark brown eyes and light tan skin.
He is a year younger than me and somewhat handsome.
I am hanging out with him tomorrow as friends.

He and I went to a cafe to have breakfast. We caught up on life at the cafe. He and I just good friends.
His eyes were grayish blue today. As we were talking about life, we agreed we both like being single.

She has sky blue eyes, dark pink lips, blonde hair, pale skin and freckles all across her face.
She was wearing a white dress with blue flowers on it. Practically emphasizing the blueness of her eyes.
I didn't catch her name but she is the new girl at Four Seasons.
Our hands touched briefly as I gave her my debit card to pay for my new clothes. For a moment I didn't want to go anywhere. She has a calming presence and a wonderful smile.

She has night black hair, steel gray eyes and plump scarlet lips.
She glanced over at me throughout my dinner with my parents.
Her seductive steel gray eyes and scarlet smile entranced me in her beautiful large curves of her bodice.
Even though I couldn't ask for her number, I got her name.
It's Leila. She was our waitress.

It's like drowning in a lake of blue flames.
It's like every pounding of your heart wanting someone you know you shouldn't have.
It's wanting so deeply that you breathe to feel that rush of desire consume every sense of your body.
It's a need to be near someone until your lips are on theirs.
It's a need to have their presence seep into yours like a warm blanket on a cold day.
Why do I have this desire if I am too selfless to feel it be fulfilled again?

One day I will marry someone but not right now because I am single.
Quite frankly I am enjoying being single.
One day someone will make me believe in true love again but not right now because it is difficult to find a soulmate.
One day I will be out of my parents' house where I will be free to make my own mistakes and achievements.
One day I will be out of my religious small town and have new start.
But until that day I will still be me because that isn't changing.

Those deep, dark blue eyes still echo remnants of our love.
Even it was an old love.
Those crimson lips, how I remember kissing those lips.
You came to check up on me while I was at work yesterday.
That dark tan skin, I remember it's softness.
I remember that defined muscles beneath that t-shirt.
I still remember your kind soul. And I remember you helped me through a panic attack when I used to work at Casey's.
I am glad that I met someone like you all those years ago. You are someone so endearing. I know you are my ex-girlfriend but if you are reading this thanks for all those years ago.

Growing up I remember in high school I was always single.
Valentine's Day is always a big thing in my small town.
But me being single in high school I didn't have anyone.
There was singing telegrams or crush soda can given to your crush.
But I never received a singing telegram or a crush soda.
Nobody had a crush on me well except my friend Ken.
Our senior year on Valentine's Day, he gave me a rose then we went to Sunrise Cafe as friends.
It wasn't until after I dropped out college he and I would go to romantic places as friends. He kept begging for us to be more than friends again. Then he would propose to me over text messages but I refused. He made me a last resort whenever a girl blocked him on the internet or didn't like him on a date. Simply because I would pick our hangout spots. He just wasn't romantic and his proposals weren't sincere. He just didn't want to be alone. And I refuse to be anyone's last resort. Even when he did make me a priority I could tell it was out of his loneliness, he wanted me not out of a sincere romantic notion of he thinks that I am important to him.
That's the difference between him and I: when I am romantic, I am sincere while he loved out of sense of misery. Then again our friendship ended because he was emotionally draining and he wasn't spontaneous or sincere. Sometimes two people who are total opposites shouldn't attract.

I haven't been called a spinster but I can tell what people are thinking when I walk by myself.
Or when I am at church with my mom then I get weird looks because I am 24 years old and single. So yeah you can call me a spinster because it is accurate.
But I am good alone. I don't need a relationship to define me. All of my friends are married and have kids or are in a relationship.
Sometimes I feel lonely because I don't have someone but when I am with my family or work friends I don't feel alone.

It's sitting in your bed reading a book having no idea what to do with your day.
It's standing in your room hearing the deafening silence and feeling like you are suffocating from being the only one there.
It's walking by yourself listening to music with a sad smile on your face hoping no one thinks you are depressed.
It's going to a cafe by yourself and trying not to feel like an emptiness is consuming you.
It's the loneliness that I am used to. I have grown so used to my solitude that I like being alone.

Nothing beautiful comes without a cost, to see a beautiful sunset you have to walk up a steep hill.
Nothing beautiful comes without a cost, to see the beautiful night sky you need a blanket to lay down in the grass.
Nothing beautiful comes without a cost, to get to know a beautiful girl you have to be courageous and ask questions.
Nothing beautiful comes without a cost, to love a beautiful girl you have to see beyond yourself and care for her as though she is the most important thing in your life because she might be.
Nothing beautiful comes without a cost, to kiss a beautiful girl is to experience your heart race, all of time stop for that moment and you hold her in your arms. For a split second all that matters is she loves you and only you in that moment.
Nothing beautiful comes without a cost, when a beautiful girl tells you that she loves you that is when you know she is worth it. Not because all those years you waited to hear from her but because she called you to tell you. And that beautiful girl hangs up before you get a chance to say it back, breaks your heart.
Nothing beautiful comes without a cost, that is my love story with a beautiful girl. I still think about her to this day. She is still alive just not from my town.

If I am being honest, I am good alone. I know what to expect.
I enjoy taking the time to write my poetry and reading the books in my room.
If I am being honest, I have never felt more free than I do right now. I have my work friends and my family.
If I am being honest, I don't know if I believe in: true love or God. I know true love exists but I am good alone. I don't know if God even cares about me.
If I am being honest, working at a thrift store isn't the same as working for a newspaper as a journalist. Maybe one day I can go back to college for journalism.

Tick-tock, I hear the constant clicking at the back of my skull as though someone shot the back of my mind with an invisible gun.
Tick-tock, always reminding me pain is never too far away from me.
Tick-tock, gender dysphoria is looking in the mirror and feeling physical pain of being someone you already are. Wishing to be something you aren't.
Tick-tock, gender dysphoria is feeling every fiber of your being tearing away at each cell wanting you to scream in agony in it's wake.
Tick-tock, gender dysphoria is feeling like you are this thing no one wants and letting the loneliness swallow you whole.
Tick-tock, gender dysphoria is always feeling like you aren't enough to anyone.
Tick-tock, you never know how much time you have until your time is up. Luckily, I am not dying young.

Gender dysphoria,
I feel a stabbing pain in my chest.
Gender dysphoria,
I feel the pain spread across my body.
Gender dysphoria,
I feel phantom pains everywhere:
my ribs, my legs, my neck and my mind.
Gender dysphoria,
It's more of a physical pain than a mental pain.

Gilded Hearts wither in the storms of life.
Gilded Hearts pass by me each day. Coaxed by their comfortable lives into a drum sound of normalcy.
Gilded Hearts are predictable in their white picket fence lifestyles.
But are they ever really living life to the fullest?
Gilded Hearts are prejudice of those different from them.
Gilded Hearts break too easily because I used to be one of them. Always with a stick up my ***. Then I learned about people who were different from me. Until I realized I wasn't Gilded Hearted at all. But someone different from the Gilded Hearts.
Where I reveal my emotional scars like trophies and the gold fades away then I am just me.
Gilded Hearts act like they are gods and goddesses when in reality: They are only human.

Remarkable Love,
She is breathtaking by her beautiful soul.
Remarkable Love,
She has restarted my broken-heart.
Remarkable Love,
She may be my first love but she brought out a part of me I forgot I had.
Remarkable Love,
A part of me that is brave enough to face anything.
Remarkable Love,
I saw her last night while she was driving. Her dark blue eyes and that awe-inspiring scarlet smile.
Remarkable Love,
She has rescued me again this time with a smile. Sure we aren't getting back together. She reminded me who I need to be with a smile. That is who I have always been a selfless poetess because no one else is me and no one else is her.
Remarkable Love,
Thank you for reminding me of who I am.

A love that never blossomed.
My heart soaking up the agony of it all like a sponge in a soapy bucket of water.
Painting with the shades of blue of my heart as my loving dreams I had of her cloud my mind.
I let the rain pour.
But I don't let the bitterness consume the sweetness that resides in my broken-heart.

I am a mess of emotions, I am brokenhearted.
I am broken in ways, I am still figuring out.
I don't know what to do other than to make art out of my pain.
Painting with the shades of blue of my broken-heart to ink on paper.

Love is Peculiar,
she is on my mind all the time.
Love is Peculiar,
she is in my dreams.
Love is Peculiar,
I am enraptured in her dark blue eyes.
Love is Peculiar,
My heart sings her name.
Love is Peculiar,
I crave her presence.
Love is Peculiar,
Every time I see her at work, she makes my day better.

Love is bewildering, she puts this ***** happy smile on my face just by existing.
Love is bewildering, she gets me in ways I am still learning.
Love is bewildering, she puts me in a love daze.
Love is bewildering, yet I am not confused, I am perplexed.
Love is bewildering, I am perplexed because she makes me feel indescribable things just by talking to me and considering me her equal.
Love is bewildering, she is definitely into me and hell yeah I will do anything to be with her.
Love is bewildering, we haven't even kissed yet but I know what we have is special to me.
Love is bewildering, I haven't even held her in my arms yet but somehow that doesn't matter because I will wait however long it takes just to hear her call me hers.
Love is bewildering, I haven't even felt her bare skin beneath my hands yet I will wait until we get there so I hope I don't mess this up.

I grew up in the church and I enjoyed most of it.
I am just sick and tired of hiding in the closet around people who have known me, my whole life.
I know they won't support me in any way because of church politics and right now I am not ready to be kicked out of my church yet.
But when I am ready to for everyone to know who I am then I will face the music.

The Life I Built from the Closet is comfortable, I know what people expect from me.
The Life I Built from the Closet is black and white thinking.
The Life I Built from the Closet is pink and blue gendering parties.
The Life I Built from the Closet is church etiquette and weddings.
The Life I Built from the Closet is volunteering and church events.
The Life I Built from the Closet is getting used to the heteronormative narrative of romance.
The Life I Built from the Closet is high stakes walking into church and not actually being who I am. Because as a wise friend once told me you are who you are. I am a bisexual woman through and through.

Church is a Sweet Nothing, I give of myself each Sunday and get nothing in return.
Church events are a Sweet Nothing. I gather with all these people but I feel empty. I hope that God is real.
They dress up and go to church. When I go to church I am surrounded by straight couples. I am reminded that I am different and to them that's a bad thing.

As I feel like a man, every emotion is slower and is more potent.
As I feel like a man, everything changed.
As I feel like a man, I feel the responsibilities of being a man.
As I feel like a man, I feel content yet I also feel a pain in my ribs.
As I feel like a man, I feel euphoric.
As I feel like a man, everything is new yet I feel like that feeling have always been with me.
As I feel like a man, I can finally describe the peace I feel when one of my friends wants to know more about my pronouns and what I prefer. I am keeping my full name. Considering I am a gender fluid woman I am keeping both parts of me: My feminine body and my masculine heart.

As I feel like a woman, every emotion rushing towards me.
As I feel like a woman, nothing changed.
As I feel like a woman, I feel the responsibilities of being a woman.
As I feel like a woman, I feel content yet I also feel a pain in my chest.
As I feel like a woman, I can feel people staring at me wondering what gender I am.
As I feel like a woman, I know what people expect of me and I dress like a tomboy. Which they don't expect.

I have always felt different in a lonely way.
My church friends will never understand me or accept me.
I don't know why I keep going to church. I guess it is a habit.
A habit that appeases my mom but not me. The moment I walk into church it is like I am on autopilot. It is as though I am looking into someone else's life not mine. I know I grew up in that church but it doesn't feel like me anymore. I know what my church friends expect of me but I know I am not like them.
I am this boyish looking girl that is proud of who they are as a person. My religion doesn't define me. I define me.

I have a small support system now but I feel amazing.
I don't have to hide who I am around my dad, little sister and older brother because they accept me for who I am.
Tomboy to Boy, one small step at a time I am becoming more me.
Tomboy to Boy, I am a gender fluid woman who is going to take down the gender norms through masculine fashion.
Sure people are already confused what gender I am already and when people think I am a guy it makes me happy.
Tomboy to Boy, I am free.

I am a gender fluid woman.
I normally dress like a tomboy.
Most of the time I feel like a guy.
The thing is I don't know how to explain the lonely different feeling.
The times I feel like a girl are weddings and classy church events.
I am like a grandfather clock, the pendulum swings from one side to next but time goes by.
All my life this lonely different feeling have haunted me. The thing is I am not alone anymore. When I was on cross country in high school I was only tomboy ******* the cross country team. The rest of the girls dressed feminine and really girly. I hung out with the guys on the guys cross country team growing up. I didn't like the segregation of guys and girls. It confused me, the segregation of guys and girls. I have always felt like one of the guys. I have very few friends that are girls. The rest of my friends are guys. All my life I have myself the question, "What the hell is wrong with me?"
Now I know there is nothing wrong with me. I was just trapped in this heteronormative way of thinking for so long but never conformed to it because not only I am bisexual but I am gender fluid too. Gender isn't a straight line divided through the middle but a pendulum swinging from one side to the next as time ticks by. I am not the only gender fluid in the world. And I refuse to conform to society's choose one gender way of the thinking. Gender isn't black and white thinking. Gender is multiple shades of gray.

Most days I feel like a guy, other times I feel like the girl I am then sometimes I feel like both.
So far the gender dysphoria gets worse as my mental health seems stable and good.
My gender dysphoria keeps acting up like sometimes I gaze at myself in the mirror I feel content then I will feel dizzy and pain spreads across my body.
My breathing gets heavy. It's as though I am drowning in ocean and all I do is swim with every ounce strength I can.
Some random guy yesterday yelled at me, "Go back where you came from, ******!" And to educate those of you that don't know, being gender fluid isn't the same as being transgender.
Being gender fluid means one day I feel like a man, another day I feel like the girl I am and some days I feel like both genders.
I have always respected transgender people. Transgender means you don't feel like gender you were born with so they take estrogen or testosterone then get gender affirming surgery.

Let's remember Nex Benedict as they were. They shouldn't have died at that young of an age.
Let's remember the 33 transgender and gender nonconforming people  who died this year because of hate crimes.
Let's remember there is more to humanity than just cruelty.
Let's remember there is more to life than the harshness of life.
I know I say this while hiding my gender identity but there is boldness in silence.
Let's remember anyone of us in the LGBTQ community would have accepted Nex Benedict as one of us because they were one of us.
So live boldly! This isn't about me, this is about remembering the dead. The dead deserve to be remembered.

Whenever I smell perfume it reminds me of the girl's locker room and I feel lonely like I did back then.
My chest is tight and in church I just wanted to yell, "I am gender fluid!" But I couldn't I was frozen in my seat.
I counted my breaths and waited for church to get over. Time seemed slower. Of course my mom didn't notice.
Things are already tense between my mom and I. I am afraid to tell her because then she will rebuke me. I know it ,I feel it  in my bones.

I remember in college there was months where I couldn't feel my body. I was numb all over and every emotion was loud to me.
Now I know it was gender dysphoria.
Last week it felt like my cells were being seared off by an invisible hot knife. I couldn't breath and my mind was foggy.
I wanted to curl up on the ground and cry. Now the pain is gone.
I still have a twinge of pain in my chest but that is all there is.
My medicine help so my anxiety is in check.
Last week was just a bad week. I am okay.

I have a twinge of pain in my chest then that pain spreads all across my body. I try not to look into the mirror.
But as a woman my features seem sharper and my curves are all I can see.
I gaze at myself in the mirror and see my coffee brown eyes then I look down to my lips still light pink. I love myself but I feel uneasy.
My anxiety is cranked up to 100 and all I want to do is tell someone that I am a gender fluid, bisexual woman.

It seems as though I am constantly go through a revolving door.
One moment I am on the inside, at peace.
The next moment I am on the outside, thrown into the wild.
I feel dizzy, euphoric and new.
With a new sense of strength and confidence.
I metaphorically gaze at myself in the glass and I see what I can be.
I can see the struggle within myself but I also see the relief of not conforming to the gender binary.
I am still getting used to being gender fluid because some days it feels as if I have fallen from sky, crashing into a new challenge.
But I enjoy the thrill of it because not every day is the same.

I always have to decide what to wear. Whether I want to wear something masculine or something feminine.
Sometimes something that is gender neutral.
So far I have only told two people know that I am gender fluid.
Everything feels new. Eventually things will be somewhat normal.

I don't always feel like a woman.
I look like a woman but I don't always feel like one.
Some days I am a woman. Other days I am a man. My body doesn't change but how I feel does.
Some days I am both man and woman. I feel this way all the time.
I realize all those times I grew up with panic attacks. I was panicking about how I was expressing my gender not about my homework.
I am a gender fluid, bisexual woman.
I am not afraid to admit it now.

Love is Madness.
It is felt in the depths of your soul.
Love is Madness, It is falling completely in love with someone worth the madness.
Love is Madness, To be insane I already know of Madness now I have to find the Love that I lost ages ago.
Love is Madness. It is losing your mind one moment and regaining yourself in their arms.
Love is Madness. It is being their one and only who truly knows them.
Love is Madness. I had Love that was Madness once. I am trying to get back to that not the idea of it.

Love isn't agreeable.
I was talking to a girl for a week and we constantly agreed with each other. Then she broke up with me now it is just radio silence.
Love isn't agreeable.
I understand now her brokenness and my brokenness didn't fit together. I am glad she bruised my pride because now I see us constantly agreeing with each other wasn't healthy.
Love isn't agreeable.
Why should it be? Love is rough and unique. That was just infatuation not love for a week.

When I loss my best friend a part of me went with her.
When I loss my best friend it was 5 days before my birthday.
When I loss my best friend I cried myself to bed each night and barely ate anything.
When I loss my best friend, 6 months after I tried to **** myself but I heard her voice say, "Don't". So put the pocket knife away and went to sleep.
When I loss my best friend, 8 years ago I couldn't look myself in the mirror because I kept getting memory flashbacks of our wonderful friendship. So I had to remind myself, she wasn't there.
When I loss my best friend, at night I heard her voice say, "I forgive you." And I felt her kiss my cheek. That night I forgave myself.
When I loss my best friend, I knew no one else was going to save me so I made new friends.
Her name was Kalie. And before she died she promised me we would be best friends no matter what. Her spirit doesn't visit me as often as she used to but I still feel her love for me.

Grief reawakens each year yet all I can remember of my best friend is her kindness and her love. I still feel her love even though she is dead.
Well her body is dead but her spirit is very much alive.
Grief is what no one prepares you for. The constantly missing them, and knowing their spirit is with you. I always leave a space in bed for my best friend's spirit because I know she would do the same if I was dead. She died 8 years ago yet her spirit is alive.
Grief is feeling that huge scar on your heart and knowing the love you have someone else never left.