My genderqueer feels

I shaved my own head! Again!
I want to run the razor over all of my head, but keep some back for when I feel wild and daring and fey.

I want to wear buttoned collared shirts and ties, but loosen them at the throat for when I need to breathe and break out of even this mold.

I never want to wear another dress, but somehow I cannot give away the ones still hanging in the closet next to the collared shirts that all fit almost-but-not-quite-the-way-I-wanted.

I want to have sharper angles, but the curves I already have are comfortable and comforting to me.

I want to pierce and tattoo my skin so that I continue to know who I am. I want to wear holy symbols on my body that never go away.

I want to be dangerous and capable and nurturing and bright and sharp. I want to be feared for my biting wit and loved fiercely for it. I want to be a safe space. I want a safe space where I can feel as unsafe as this life has made me.

I want to be seen as fully myself even as I discover what that is, but in public I still ping as female. Am I female? Am I male? I’m both and neither.

I want to wear men’s shoes with curvy wide legged pants and tee shirts with blazers and I want to wear my whole wild self on my face and in the way that I walk, but sometimes I want to be still and silent and not be seen.

I want to know who and what I am. I am finding myself in the arms and love of those closest to me. I am finding myself in pictures of other people who seem like me. I am finding myself in my own reflection.

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Rhiannon Kelley
Stargazer, medium, druid, student. Activist & rabble-rouser. Married with four kids. Really fucking sweary. Genderqueer & poly. They/them/theirs.

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