For the Ones Who Were Never the Problem

What would you say if I stopped being normal?

If I stopped making myself understandable.
If I stopped shrinking the strange parts, the soft parts, the changing parts.
If I let my body age without apology.
If I let love be complicated.
If I let my child become who they are without asking them to make it easier for the world.
If I stopped calling exhaustion responsibility and silence kindness.

Would you think I had lost something?

Or would you notice how much of me had been spent trying to be recognizable?

Maybe normal was never who I was.
Maybe it was just the price of belonging.

And maybe queering the norm is this:

choosing, finally, to belong to oneself.