On Being Queer

I'm a nineteen-year-old gender-non-conforming queer drag queen. 

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What a mouthful.

 

Can you believe it all started with drag? I think that the moment I put on my first wig and extravagant makeup was the first time I realized how much of show femininity was for me. 

My mind was always torn, I only knew the binaries, never the in-between.

And when I found that in between? Lord, I rejected it so fast.

I wanted to be normal, respected, and looked up to by people and I knew that the moment I started being myself it was all over. 

Wait, myself?

At that age, I didn't even know what that meant let alone who I was. I was a sentient mirror walking around practically begging others for validation in mimicking their plights.

I found myself, came to myself crying late one November evening only to be met with that awful realization once again that I was queer. 

It was such a hard pill to swallow, made harder by the looming eyes and chattering tongues of the community around me. 

Their mouths grew quiet when I left.

I found myself, found them on a stage. Found them in a wig and feminine getup, with the freedom to take it off at the end of the day. Found them in loving whoever they chose. Found them, in me.

I'm a nineteen-year-old gender-non-conforming queer drag queen. 

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And I love it.