The puzzle game of no consequence
on my phone
demands that I enter a name.
I am no longer allowed to enjoy
the anonymity of being myself.
It wants a name.
Which more or less means,
it also wants a gender.
I no longet get to sit here
and simply be in my own skin,
be myself,
enjoy my time outside of the world’s eyes.
Even here in my bedroom,
I have to answer to society.
Who and what are you?
I feel like the transgender child
on The Riches
when Minnie Driver says
school is coming up
and they have to choose a gender
and the child tears up
and Minnie Driver holds the child
and says “Not for me. Never for me.”
This puzzle game could learn a lot from television.
I stare at the screen not wanting to give it
my boy name or my girl name,
too exhausted to come up with
a new third, gender neutral name.
It won’t accept the single letter J.
It’s all fun and games until we start labeling people
and grilling them for their names
and then it grinds to a halt.
Moments ago, I was mostly feeling feminine,
if I had to answer,
blissing out on Taylor Swift
and now I’m being asked to identify myself.
Who am I?
I’m the princess who lay dormant for over twenty years.
I am the one who hopes.
I am the brave one who continues
to dream
of finding a place in this world.
I am every redhead.
I’m the first transgender Disney princess.
How do you fit that into five to twenty characters?
They never seem to have that on a keychain at the souvenir shops.
That is who I am, puzzle game.
A single name can barely contain my multitudes
yet my name is too precious
to give you,
to toss away for the asking,
to share with the unworthy.
I have fought too hard for it.
I won’t play your game tonight.