I am not your teacher
Sometimes, I get called a she
And I mildly cringe.
Sometimes, it slips out of a friend’s mouth,
And what should be a quick “I’m sorry”
Ends up being an excuse
That I feel guilty for.
Sometimes,
I try to explain this
To people who don’t understand
How I can identify as something
They were never aware of
Or educated on.
My friends ask
If this changes my sexuality.
If I can still call myself
A lesbian
Without being a woman.
Suddenly,
My coming out
Turns into
A history lesson
That no one seems to be listening to.
But my life
Is not
A puzzle
And I do not owe you
An explanation
For my existence.
And I mildly cringe.
Sometimes, it slips out of a friend’s mouth,
And what should be a quick “I’m sorry”
Ends up being an excuse
That I feel guilty for.
Sometimes,
I try to explain this
To people who don’t understand
How I can identify as something
They were never aware of
Or educated on.
My friends ask
If this changes my sexuality.
If I can still call myself
A lesbian
Without being a woman.
Suddenly,
My coming out
Turns into
A history lesson
That no one seems to be listening to.
But my life
Is not
A puzzle
And I do not owe you
An explanation
For my existence.
2 thoughts on "I am not your teacher"
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Yes.
Please know who you are can never be defined by the words others choose, for whatever reason, to use. You are more precious than words. Words have never been able to adequately describe what we truly are, as human beings, though poets, philosophers, and scientists have tried for centuries.
Celebrate within yourself, and let the rain fall and sun shine as they will.