Fin Rose

Becoming Me

To some this might sound strange,

For they are already “Them”,

But to others, this will resonate

Like an ear worm, you just can’t shake.

I learned to be palatable,

Easily Digestible, bite sized

Just enough, but not ‘too much’

Useful and yet neglect-able.

I tell myself, “Don’t neglect your true existence for the comfort of others. It is not sustainable.”

And so, I strive to be… me

The real me, whom I have come to love.

Though I did not recognise them at first,

It has been the most sublime discovery, becoming me.

Me, I am a colourful oak tree,

Unabashed and tall, full of life.

Me, I am a flowering cactus,

Beautiful, fierce, and complex.

Me, I am a constellation,

Guiding myself through this dark world. My own North Star.

In becoming me I reject being malleable and ‘just enough’

I embody resistance.

I am anarchy.

Trans me, Queer me,

Joyful me, Proud me.

Authentically, unapologetically, me.

My radical act of self-love.