A poem about accepting yourself as you are, despite disapproval from others. |
Dreams of living a life where I truly feel like myself fly throughout my head. I scream at the God in the Heavens that people made up, and I ask him: “Do you really love us? Or are we just pawns for your own personal chess game?” Along the way, I feel my sense of self fading into the noise of my mother’s preaching; She tells me I’m being lied to; that there’s some demon in my body making me feel like this. But I turned the volume down on her, and turned up the volume of my soul. My soul reminds me of a very poignant fact. “I am not a pawn in a game,” I tell myself, “I am the result of thousands of years of coincidences, all of which lead to my birth;” The circumstances I was born into are not my fault. I will not waste any more time trying to please everyone but myself.” So I’m heading off. I turn my head one last time; my mother stands at the grave of her daughter. Unbeknownst to her, she never had a daughter. The girl my mom thought I was was simply a product of her imagination - one she still clings onto to this day. The road is long; the road is tedious. But I’ll get there, and it will have been worth the trip. Am I Emma? Am I a woman? No. Am I Andrew? Am I a man? Also no. Then, who is the “real me”? Their name is Avery. They use they/them pronouns. And they finally know that the extent of their worth is without boundaries. |