To put rest to this curiosity, I decided to ask a few friends from the USA how life is different; being queer and ethnically different in a home away from home.
The worst of it all came when someone told me bisexual erasure is fake
Love, to me, is being comfortable with another person and not having to be someone else.
I feel stuck in my skin
This isn't who I am,
And will they ever believe that I'm a woman?
If I'm born a man.
Everyone around me seemed elated, not a single care in the world, and a fire in their eyes, a storm brewing.
As I walk further, a row of mannequins catches my attention. It’s impossible to miss, really. Every mannequin is dressed beautifully. My eyes widen, and I marvel at how attractive an inanimate object can look, with all the hard work put in by the designers.