Undesirable Companion,
I’d say it’s been a while, but I know you’ve been lingering for a long time. When I told my father I was not his daughter, you stood starkly behind me. The world seemed so small as a child in a conservative town. There was this gullible hope inside of me that you were irrational by saying it is not safe to be myself. I thought I could hold my ground and be respected for the feelings I felt so strongly. Little did I know, that love is conditional. After explaining my identity to my father, I was met with disbelief and rhetoric that echoed the fear-mongering of men on political channels. Grief, guilt, and of course, you; my fear, swallowed me whole. Despite how long it has been since then, you find ways to creep closer to me by the day.
I see you in the mirror when I enter the restroom, merely trying to do what I must and race out before I am questioned by strangers. You breathe down my neck when cashiers check my ID, whispering what they must think of me; a freak of nature, a monster, sub-human.
The state of the country has allowed you to flourish. My underage siblings are losing their rights to life-saving affirming care. The very medications and therapies I have used to keep you at bay are now being demonized for reasons I still do not understand. You crawl into my skin and make my hands tremble at the headlines. You rattle in my ears, telling me I am next on the chopping block.
Most days I am at your whim; guided by your dense shadow. You tell me if I do not keep my head down, I will not survive. As my country decides I am an enemy in my home, I have been looking up more. My view of the world grows larger by the day. It is disheartening that it took such painful circumstances, but I have never felt more connected to my community. There are thousands of my siblings not in blood, but in experience. My sisters in L.A. are fighting for gender-affirming markers on our legal documents. My brothers in court arguing my right to live comfortably with the Supreme Court. Remembering my connection to others in my community and that I’m not alone in this suffocating reality helps keep you at bay. Even more powerful, I see long-since-grown adults telling their stories. Until now, some in my community lived hidden lives that are true to themselves. At first sight, there are men who I would never think understand what I experience, yet they have known you longer than I have been alive. I see women who have waited decades to face you, finally deciding that comfortability in their own skin is a life much more worth living. The stories of those before me strengthen my future. For years, I didn’t think I’d make it past 18. Now, at 21, I am filled with pride and gratitude for holding on. The voices of my elders strengthen me, reminding me this does not have to be the end. Being submissive in times like these, when you are so unrelenting, would mean the megalomaniacs in power have won. I see myself in the mirror and remember I am living the life I was meant to; in pursuit of happiness. What happened to life and liberty?
I know you will always be here. As the days go on, I am both comforted and heartbroken, knowing I am not your only victim. It is my responsibility as a self-made-man in an increasingly violent world to share my story of how much you have hindered me and my growth. The days of keeping my head down and mouth sewn shut are not beneficial to my life. No matter what happens, I will not stay silent.

(Style Score- 81%)