#loveoneself

I know you're feeling like you just can't win, but you're trying

It's hard to keep on keepin' on, when you're being pushed around

Don't even know which way is up, you just keep spinning down, 'round, down

Every storm runs, runs out of rain

Just like every dark night turns into day

Every heartache will fade away

Just like every storm runs, runs out of rain

So hold your head up and tell yourself that there's something more

And walk out that door

Go find a new rose, don't be afraid of the thorns

'Cause we all have thorns

Just put your feet up to the edge, put your face in the wind

And when you fall back down, keep on rememberin'

Every storm runs, runs out of rain

Just like every dark night turns into day

Every heartache will fade away

Just like every storm runs, runs out of rain

It's gonna run out of pain

It's gonna run out of sting

It's gonna leave you alone

It's gonna set you free

Set you free

Every storm runs, runs out of rain

Just like every dark night turns into day

Every heartache will fade away

Just like every storm runs, runs out of rain

It's gonna set you free,

It's gonna run out of pain,

It's gonna set you free

Pride and joy and love and hurt

Peace and care judgement and disapointment

Are almost the feelings I fell

Hoping, wishing they weren't real

I want not to feel

These things that are true and real

Yet I can't help but feel this way

And stare at the blank wall all day

A prince I wished for

Ha, I tell myself

Couldn't I have done better

than call for help from a boy

Realization hit and there I realized

That I need no man to solve my problems

I just needed to take a breath

I exist in a community the world keeps trying to understand from the outside. There are theories, definitions, arguments, and opinions about people like me—but none of them prepare you for what it actually feels like to live this life.

Because this isn’t theoretical.

It’s embodied.

It’s daily.

There is no language that fully captures the experience of being misnamed, or of knowing who you are and still having to negotiate that truth every time you introduce yourself. There is no framework for the quiet calculation that happens before I enter a space—Will I be safe here? Will I be seen? Will I be erased?

People often assume that being trans or non-binary means being confused. But I’ve never been confused about who I am. What’s confusing is living in a world that asks for authenticity while punishing it. A world that tells me to be myself, but only if that self remains comfortable, legible, and non-disruptive.

Anxiety, for me, isn’t some abstract condition. It’s learned. It’s the result of paying attention. It’s knowing when to lower my voice, when to correct someone, when to let it go because I don’t have the energy to explain my existence for the hundredth time. It’s the tension that lives in my body long after the conversation ends.

I live in the in-between.

Between how I see myself and how I’m perceived.

Between visibility and vulnerability.

Between the relief of being known and the fear of being known too much.

Dysphoria doesn’t always scream. Sometimes it whispers. Sometimes it shows up as absence—like not recognizing yourself in reflections, photos, or memories. And sometimes what hurts isn’t dysphoria at all, but exhaustion. Exhaustion from correcting pronouns. From answering invasive questions disguised as curiosity. From feeling like my life is a concept people feel entitled to debate.

I am tired of being almost understood.

Tired of being reduced to identity before humanity.

Tired of being asked to educate while my own experiences are questioned.

And still, I keep living.

I find joy where I can—often in small, quiet ways. In chosen names. In chosen people. In moments where I don’t have to explain myself at all. I’ve learned to build language when none was given to me, and to hold softness alongside resilience because both are necessary to survive.

My life is not a theory.

My body is not a question.

My identity is not a phase waiting to pass.

You don’t need to fully understand me to respect me. You don’t need to feel what I feel to believe me. But please don’t claim comprehension if you’ve never had to learn how to exist while being seen and erased at the same time.