Being classified as the The Mom Friend in America is like being complimented and praised at the same time.
Being The Mom Friend is worrying about your friends like they are children and acting as though anything will **** them like starvation, exhaustion, heat stroke, hypothermia, and frostbite to name several.
Being The Mom Friend you do research on anything personally and talk about facts to them as if it's gossip which it isn't.
Being The Mom Friend means feeding your friends, reminding them on road trips about anything important, caring about their hygiene, overpacking for school trips so nothing goes wrong and being the alpha female by loving them unconditionally.
I generally think most women don't know what an alpha female is in a wolf pack because scientifically alpha wolves care for the pack and never backs down from a fight unless killed off in a territorial war with another alpha wolf. People would have to do research on red and gray wolves to know that.

Long ago, the night you resurrected me.
I was dead for not that long.
You were pressing on my chest and using your breaths to bring me back. When I came back to life:
I kissed you and you kissed back.
You cuddled with me the rest of the night. Then left in the morning.

You may never know how much the past ***** you into a void.
One that you can't out run nor drink away.
Who is to say how much you have to survive in order to live?
Who is to say how courageous you have to be in order get through the night? Do God actually count my tears? Does He see my pain and sorrows? His messengers were there for me. His scripture only feed the suspiciousness of the rich and demote the curious.
I have always been curious. In Christianity to ask deep questions is to be chastised by the public or praised by peers. I have never been afraid to be vulnerable. I have been afraid to talk about my mental illnesses and my past. Could I be loved if I reveal those things? I already know that I am insane. I embrace it. It is better to be feared by the public for being crazy than loved for hiding personal issues.

The ink bleeds my pains and sorrows.
The paper captures every ounce of ink.
I don't need to cut myself because the Pen Cuts as Well as a Knife.
It's better to spill my soul rather than have blood to worry about.
I unravel my wild side into the pages. Chaos spreading. Anger ebbing into tiny flames. I pass my literary codes to those that I trust. Warning them of the flood of rage that is to happen. I keep those I love safe from the beast within. I am the kind of beast that needs to be understood in order to feel loved. Understanding between two humans is the intimate thing people do. I would rather have my mind and heart understood than be glanced at as though I am a crazy person. I may start a wildfire of scorching rage all around me until I rise out of the ashes like a phoenix. Vulnerable, exhausted, bright in the light and full of colors. I keep my distance and my silence until all of the anger is out of me.

Pitter patter
The Rain hits the road
roarrr
The Thunder rolls in the sky

In college I fell for Chelsie. We met on a sunny day after the SGA interviews. At Black Hawk, Jana the student leader organizer of SGA said I got into this spin off of SGA. Eventually while I was in Writer's Guild I became vice president then joined SGA. I perfected everything I could.
Since I was too afraid to go back to SGA, I got to pick who was in the support system and a wooden gavel. I still don't know why. I may be a good judge of character but my mental illnesses make me disabled.
I got a vocal witness which is her. I don't know why she still cares about me so much. According to my psychiatrist's assistant I am autistic. So that's new.

When life is going well and may I say almost too well. I wonder where is my anxiety? Then BOOM! My anxiety shows up and says, "You called?" in a poised precise sing-songy voice.
There is My Anxiety. Always fidgeting and always creating mountains to climb. It calls out my name into it's endless void.
What are you if not my leash that keeps me chained to this reality?
Do I call you comfort or the depths of being unhinged?
I will never know. Awaken The Beast if you must Anxiety just make sure to hand me my sword on the way out.

I have anxiety, depression, bipolar disorder and schizophrenia.
I am medicated and I have good doctors taking care of me.
There is No Cure, Just Mindset.
I used to be consumed by anxious and depressive thoughts to the point I was hurting myself with my own expectations of people.
People looked at how weird I was and abandoned me after a brief season of friendship.
They turned out to be popular, normal people who forgot about our brief season of friendship. Because people like that will never understand people like me.
My mindset is too set in psychology, sociology and philosophy for normal people to understand a word I say.
Sometimes it is nonsense to them and wisdom to me.
I grew to know many things either from experience or books.
I am not normal and I never will be normal.
Normal is an overrated expectation that society puts on children of the past, the present and the future.

To hear the phrase, "They can smell fear" repeatedly which implies human can smell fear is a myth.
Wolves, dogs, lions and cats can smell fear which is true.
Humans can see fear in body language, tone of voice, the way a person breathes and in the way eyes move.
Humans can sense fear with the gazing of the eyes because the eyes reveal everything.
Humans acting confident and actually being confident are two totally different things.
Humans are inclined to benefit of the doubt, nervousness, socially awkwardness, believing in humanity too much and believing in humanity too little.
The Scent of Desperation is the trembling of the hands, the waver in the voice, the heavy breathing and the wobbly walk.

Jesus commands his disciples to be servants of this world.
Most Christians forget to be servants.
To be a Servant you have to be humble and observant.
Needs and wants don't just appear on doorsteps.
You have to seek out different crowds and be the good influence without becoming your past self.
Marble staircases and gold crowns isn't where the brokenhearted are.
Broken minded sure. Gilded secrets are a thing.
Materialistic life won't lead to happiness. It's just part of capitalism.

If you have ever read The Host by Stephanie Meyer then you know it ends with "People are strange" with the reply, "The strangest". I hate the Twilight series but loved the werewolf aspect of it. My mom read the Twilight series and forced me to watch the Twilight series with her growing up. I personally love Cassandra Clare books. That's the difference between my mom and I. I give an in-depth analysis of every book I read so I have my own well read opinions while mom enjoy the fandom high. My mom stopped reading fiction books when her church friends thought they were the devil's work. I still read all types of fiction books. I watched The Mortal Instruments: The City of Bones the movie 10 times before I actually started reading Cassandra Clare books. The show Shadowhunters was a poor adaption of the books. No matter what series you read "People are strange" is going to be the overall take away. The Beautiful Creatures series is great because forbidden love is wonderful to read.

The Sweet Girl has lightly tan that it is almost pale skin, full, dark pink lips and light blue eyes.
Her voice is as gentle as the wind.
She is vivacious and kind. She has a dimple on right cheek when she smiles.
She is someone I work with.

She has dark blue eyes, black glasses and a smile that makes my heart skip a beat.
She has a slender body, chestnut brown hair and when she looks me with her dark blue eyes I forget what I am doing so I smile back.
She is beautiful in ways I try to understand from the way she laughs to the way she walks. So I appreciate her beauty with each glance in her direction.
She is confident, smart, funny, vivacious and beautiful. I know she isn't mine to love but I hope whoever she loves, loves her the way she deserves to be loved.
I still care about her even if she isn't mine to love.

Those dark blue eyes and her laughter make my days at work better.
I like how she tells me stories about her life.
I like how she glances at me and smiles.
I like how I feel around her.
I like how I can tell her anything.

The Sweet Girl and the dimple on her right cheek when she smiles.
The Sweet Girl said she will message me on Messenger when she wants to hangout with me.
I love The Sweet Girl's voice for it makes my days at work better.
The Sweet Girl has this way of getting cuter with each passing day.
Today she had her chestnut brown hair in a ponytail and wore a yellow flannel. It emphasized her prominent cheekbones. I couldn't help it but stare at how beautiful she is.

The Taste of ***** burns the throat.
The Taste of ***** mixed with soda is a luxury.
Sure it's strong but so am I. I can't get drunk off of it because my metabolism is too fast.
The Taste of ***** it's gives a buzz.
The Taste of ***** it's not liquid courage just another high compared to my mood swings.
Sure it's one of the things normal people get drunk off of, good for them. Try having natural happy high then crashing into sadness lake. It *****. It feels like being Icarus.

I want to change only socializing at work.
I want to change how I beat myself up over the past.
I want to change how my thoughts being negative about my past.
I want to change how lonely I feel sitting my bedroom thinking of a better life.
I want to change how stupid I feel when I have no words for my feelings.
I want to change how my family think of my love life. I am not hopeless or stupid or uncapable of thinking for myself. I can consent to my own life as insane I am. I accept my madness. I accept the messed up past. I accept the negative thoughts I have.
I accept that there will always be drama no matter where I go. My life is not a debate. I am still human. I have flaws and I accept them.
No one has a right to my love life. The poems that I write are personal I get to choose who publishes them.

They don't tell you how amazing it is to love.
They don't tell you how much unrequited love *****.
They don't tell you how great every tastes after your first time.
They don't tell you how every emotion is louder when you are older.
They don't tell you how coming out is terrifying.
They don't tell you how depression feels like the weight of the world is on your shoulders.
They don't tell you how anxiety feels as though everything is falling apart.

Chelsie wanted to pressure me into having video *** with her. Of course I refused because her older sister told me at the library that she didn't recognize any of them. As many naked pictures she sent of herself to me, I refused because I knew something wasn't right about her. There was church bells going off in my gut telling something was wrong with her. No matter how turned on I was I couldn't lose her.
I refused despite what I remembered of her.
I just did what I wanted someone to do for me if I went into psychosis again. Then again when I went into psychosis I read every book in my room and wrote gibberish from my audio hallucinations into my journals. I got lucky I guess. Good thing I used my calming methods from when I was eleven when I got panic attacks a lot.

I know movies start off with a quirky girl. Otherwise known as the Manic Pixie Dream Girl Trope. Not all weirdoes are like that. We weirdoes come in all shapes, sizes, personalities and colors. Guys can be weirdoes too. I know so. This isn't about fixing a boring ***, depressive guy who can't get his **** together. This is about Hollywood wanting to objectify a person with dyed pink or blue hair to make a romantic narrative. This is about calling out Hollywood on it's abusive romantic narratives. You can't follow someone around forever like a puppy with a tight leash; that's called stalking.
You can't quilt someone to love you; that's called emotional abuse.
You can't force someone to kiss you; that's called ****** assault.
You can't act like someone else by stealing their life; that's called identity fraud. You can't lie on your resume; that's called lying. These are the plot holes Hollywood forget. Do better Hollywood.
The ****** Always Cares! Unless you objectify them you are in for a rude awakening.

It's no surprise to ache everywhere because the white cells are protecting my healing wound.
I feel fragile and vulnerable physically.
It's as if every part of me is waiting to be protected again. Yet healing requires focus and energy maybe that is why.
I don't know.

No one in my family cares about what I do at the library.
I love reading about my mental illnesses and it's interesting.
It's adventurous. It's curiosity.
They don't understand and that is what hurts my heart.
They don't understand that I seek knowledge in books.
They don't understand that I am a book addict so sometimes I don't check out books because it feels like an experience that is sacred to me.

I love Sherlock quotes. I love Sherlock the show, Sherlock Holmes the movie series and The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. I just understand Sherlock with his madness and witty insults. He may be a detective and his best friend Dr. Watson is a writer.
I guess madness goes both ways. Sherlock is canonically is a high functioning sociopath and I am a high functioning sociopath too.
Speaking the truth is easy for us because normal people are slow, all the same, boring and have cases that should put them in therapy.
I am a writer and Sherlock is a detective, the smallest details of a person are important just most people choose to ignore them.
Yes I am making a faux pas. I am good at it.
They may see but they don't observe. Poor narrow minded humans never seeing the big picture at the small details.

The thing about being autistic, I have been getting all sorts of therapy since I was 3 years old. From reading, writing and speaking.
The thing about being autistic, I am brutally honest and super-empathetic. I have been able to pick up on other people's emotions for as long as I can remember. It's like getting glue on your hands, you peel off the layers of glue and it seems like a second skin.
The more I am around people the more their emotions stick to me so when I walk away I get to breath and focus on my own emotions.
The thing about being autistic, nobody wants to talk about it because it makes people uncomfortable. There is no cure to being autistic. It's something you are born with and it's a mental disability.
The thing about being autistic, and being called a special needs adult isn't any different from being a special needs kid. The Americans with Disabilities Act still helps me as an adult like getting a job and keeping a job. It's up to me whether I want to disclose it or not as a person with a mental disability.

Thing about bipolar disorder. There is no cure and it's a mental illness.
The thing about bipolar disorder, I can be depressed for no reason or I can be restless for no reason.
The thing about bipolar disorder, there are times I see shadows moving not attached to anything.
The thing about bipolar disorder it can only be treated with antidepressants or an SSRI.

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.

I can control how I react things. I can control my mental state in most cases. I don't fight when it comes to releasing my emotions.
Most of the time when I can't control I use calming methods like deep breathing techniques I learned from concert band.
I can control my thoughts and what to think about. It's like opening up being vulnerable is easy to me but trusting that an entirely different story. To trust someone I need to have known them for a long time. I can't just meet someone and automatically trust them, I used to do that but I ended up hurt far too many times by doing that.

I don't have a *** drive. I know it exists somewhere in me but I know that I am not asexual. I know how deep I can love and care for someone platonically and romantically. It's just I don't understand people my age wanting to sleep with each other.
Even when I was in middle school I didn't understand the appeal of sleeping with someone. I know it's primal nature to every creature on the planet but to me I just want to trust someone who wants to love me. I know it sounds simple but I don't trust people.
I enjoy understanding things but I don't gain ****** pleasure from outsmarting people.
The Things I Don't Understand is personal to me. Maybe it's because of all my mental illnesses I don't understand the why.

I have things still to say to him. I have so many feelings unraveling.
I want to yell at him for manipulating me. I want to tell him how wrong it was for him to place his life in my hands as if I didn't have enough stress weighing on my shoulders. I want to tell him that he took my happiness away for 4 years. 4 years is too long to be unhappy and depressed. I am angry because I still have things to say.
I am angry that he made feel worthless. I am angry that he made me feel trapped for so long as if I had no choice in my life. I am angry that he thought that we were similar in any way, shape or form.

The Mystery Girl wanted to ask for my number the day before Valentine's Day. I kept staring at her and no words would come out of my mouth. She kept blushing because she kept noticing me staring.
I just get so nervous around her I forget what to do.
She is so beautiful and vocal about her feelings for me that I am left speechless.

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 am Thinking About how I don't have to rush into close friendships or romance. I am Thinking About how I have choices now.
I am Thinking About how I am good at being alone because I don't feel lonely anymore since I know who I am.
I am Thinking About how reading comforts me and writing brings out my emotions. I am Thinking About how many times I get tempted to contact him I remember the ways he damaged me and I stop myself. I am Thinking About how grateful my realizations saved me in the end. I am Thinking About how concerned my mom got when I told her the truth and how she defended my actions.
I am Thinking About how proud my psychiatrist was of me.
I am Thinking About how much I need a therapist because in all honesty after what I have been through talking to someone always helps.

Thinking in Stanzas, the mere thought or to continue in thought is how the poem is.
Thoughts of poems and creations of poems. For we are not greater than the Great Poets and Poetesses before us.
For we are modern poets of this technology and of this age.
Thinking in Stanzas, to think a dear thought is to develop a poem. For thoughts are how poems are made. Let the thoughts be great of love, death or desire. For great love is how poems of love are made from.
For great death is how sorrow is not void within each poem about death.

I may not be an teacher like my older sister. I may not be a pastor like my older brother. But I can write.
This Is Where I Lead, I may not be my older siblings but I have lead Writer's Club as vice president in high school and I have lead Writer's Guild as vice president in college. My older siblings had to be taught how to lead. I could lead crowds even if it was small crowds ever since I was a kid, I had leading down to a science by high school due to my natural instincts.
This Is Where I Lead, I hardly ever lied growing up but when I did my mom would notice. My siblings had no idea how much strength it took going up against mother mentally and emotionally growing up because none of them ever did it. My mom always thought something was wrong with me even I was being a good person front and center for her.
This Is Where I Lead, I have always been opinionated and outspoken because I hung out with geniuses so of course I would play catch up in the matter of minutes at lunchtime and have my voice be heard. We would have a different topic every day so I felt like a reporter in a good way. The nerd table would be filled with music nerds, writing nerds and a couple of science nerds. Being a nerd requires being strong willed, being looked down upon by the popular people, tough skin, and having to deal with bullies.

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.

This You Do not know I have the weight of the world bearing on my shoulders.
This You Do not know there is a pain bursting from my heart.
This You Do not know every breath is heavy as I am dying as I am living.
I am not a bitter person. I am not going to let you depress me.
I am not going to let you turn me into a monster like you.
You are a human leech ******* my light and energy. I will never date you.
This You Do not know I was never happy with you in the first place.
I regret meeting you. I regret being your friend.
Soon I will say good bye to you and eventually I will heal far away from you.

I am confident, brave and fearless.
Why do I care about how I present myself?
I believe in soulmates but I don't trust people.
I believe in deep, soulful romance and in God. Yet I don't judge people, I just observe people. I write about what I know which is a lot for my age. I have experienced a lot.
My wants are very little and my needs are a lot.
I am complex, simple, intelligent and mature. To love people is giving them chances to hurt me. To care for people is giving them chances to break my heart. I take the risks yet among geniuses I still feel valued as an equal. Time is just a variable in a machine bigger than all of us.
To be human is to be vulnerable and strong at the same time.

I am dramatic, manic-depressive, bipolar and a master of my own emotions. Trauma is an old friend of mine. I am used to be abandoned, people being charmed by my personality, people thinking that I am insane and my closest friends not knowing what to do with me. I can't turn off my emotions trust me I have tried in my past many times. I can't be emotionless but I can act like I don't care which is close enough. I will stay away from people when I feel bad and by bad I mean like pressure to the back of my eyes, world spinning, can't breathe type of insanity.
I am used to being insane but the affect my insanity have on people is different for everyone in my life.

Blues and greens
Lighting appearing
The small town surrounded by gray clouds
No cars on the roads
Everything is louder in the Thunderstorms

I am not all vengeful angel sometimes I am a heartless demon.
I know shocking. Grief changes people. My grief divided me in two.
Losing my best friend at 15 broke my heart. Most of the time I am an angel other times I am a demon. My mind palace keep both sides in equilibrium. Sometimes I can be distant and in my own little world. Other times I can be the embodiment of sunshine. I will defend my family and friends from my dark side as much as I can but sometimes my dark side sneaks out and makes a mess of my life. I know I am describing myself as two different people. But that's what the grief did to me.

My work best friend is someone I felt like I have known her my whole life even though we became friends several months ago.
I always felt like I had prove my existence as something special to the Girl with Green Eyes even though we have been friends for 9 years.
Time is something strange because one person can make everything seem business like while the other can make everything seem like the joining of a family.
My ex boyfriend always compared me to his ex girlfriend which I knew wasn't fair to my personality.
One day when I find myself a girlfriend I know that I will never compare any of my exes to her.
Time is something strange because the past doesn't always measure up to the present. I know now that I am older that abusive people make everything too good to seem true while good people make everything seem natural and worth keeping.
Only time will tell when someone is actually good or someone is pretending to be good.

I stayed up until the sun rose. Now I don't know whether I want to sleep or stay awake. I have a road trip ahead of me. So now I have to act happy in a car ride with my mother. Great(sarcasm)! I will just read on the way there so I don't have to speak to her.
Avoiding my mother plan complete. Good thing my little sister will be there. Sometimes I want to tell my mom the list of things she hide from her friends in conversations. Including my mental illnesses. She would probably put me on a prayer chain without hesitation. Because according to her, avoiding things being said out loud is a way to face problems. Yeah great way to teach your kids(not really). I don't understand how she can hide behind that mask when some days I can see right through it and see the monster she really is. Because I know that I am not the monster of the family. My older siblings refuse to bring up our deep seated family issues that are generational. I don't get how they wear their masks. I can peel them all off with a single truth. My family keep secrets from people when we could just tell them our problems but no hiding is safer. I refuse to hide my problems and the generational issues.

My experiences are mine to share.
Thank you everyone for supporting my poetry! I really appreciate it. This is my safe place. So I am glad people like you enjoy my experiences.
To Anyone Who Listens, I love you people.
To Anyone Who Listens, This army is worth celebrating.
To Anyone Who Listens, I consider you people my friends.
To Anyone Who Listens, If I could give everyone hugs I would in a heartbeat.

To Be a victim of emotional and mental abuse it's as if there is nothing to stop the incoming demands of caring about someone you shouldn't.
To Be insane is to question your actions on the concept of good and evil.
To Be a nerd is to bullied until you breakdown in front of everyone in tears.
To Be brave is to do reckless things to test fear itself.
To Be alone is to be surrounded by people and wanting to leave the social event.
To Be a writer is think about every impossible situation and ask your friends if you are right.
To Be a singer is to be impress people you barely know and act as though it's natural for your voice to slip an octave lower than intended.
To Be fierce is to say what you want in hopes that those are the right words.
To Be an intellectual is to know that there is always more to learn.

Today is Different because it's my birthday. Chels, what Ken did to me had nothing to do with you. He wanted me in his bed since high school. You had me in your arms the moment we joined SGA.
You challenged me to be a better person so I did what I do best try make everything perfect, spout out truths, apologize profusely and care too much what everyone thinks of me. When we hugged at the first SGA meeting, you liked me back.
Today is Different because it's my birthday. Chels, everything Ken did had nothing to do with you. What you did to me is okay because I expected to be betrayed by someone in SGA that year. You are still my best friend. I know weird expectations. You are still you and I am still me. Eventually, you will understand that.
Today is Different because it's my birthday. Chels, you said drop the good girl act so here I am. Wild, insane, adorable, nerdy, loving, caring and still around. I am a dramatic ***** so come back to me.
If you don't know that already then catch up.

I am not just a warrior and a rebel. I am a sister, a best friend, a daughter, a good friend, a mysterious stranger and someone who will accept almost anyone to my army.
To Feel is an honor in a world that is so fake.
To Feel is a privilege in a world that makes fun of madness.
To Feel is a special badge in a world that finds realness so deep that barely anyone can breathe in it.
To Feel is accept the weird and throw spite on the normal.
To Feel is to make new friends a home in your memories.
To Feel is to be loved and valued by best friends.

When you have story so full of details, wonders and converging side characters it becomes impossible to follow just one main plot line.
When your story is full of tragedies, hilarious moments, heart warming people, cold as ice radio silences and dramatic misunderstandings it's as though the story is already overflowing with curiosity.
To Let Go of the past, the hate, the ego and the rage you are left with a heart and soul. What will be left if take away all of that? Will you be free or will you be nothing? What are humans without rage and envy?
To Let Go of the pain and sorrow as well as learn from past mistakes you become a hero with glorious purpose or a rebel with trust issues.
I became a rebel with trust issues became being a hero is overrated and I can't save everyone, that's my downfall. I want to help everyone but not everyone is worth saving. Demons lurk in the shadows waiting for their next vicious move against humanity. Beasts fear vengeful angels. I am not lonely but I am insane. I am not afraid of the beasts and demons anymore they are powerless against my wits.

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.

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 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.