A Week Undecided

Monday, they woke up and looked in the mirror. The faded pajamas and loose t-shirt made them happy and they smiled.

Tuesday, they woke up and looked in the mirror. The faded pajamas and the loose t-shirt made them sad and they frowned. They yearned for boxers and no t-shirt at all.

Wednesday, the chest binder was locked away in the closet and that was good for them.

Thursday, the chest binder was all that was holding them together.

Friday, their family never called them for dinner back home. They cried themself to sleep, a wet towel strewn across their hungry stomach and upset heart.

Saturday, their younger sister snuck some home-made food into their apartment. It was a happy day.

Sunday, churches across town refused to let them in. Called them an abomination, a monstrosity, a sin. They went back home and prayed to the shrine in a hole in their wall.

A week in the day of a non-binary person is a ride, but not a particularly fun one. And yet, they won’t stop living life the way they want to.

Because this is who they are.

They aren’t ‘undecided’ or ‘confused’ or ‘greedy’. They are genderqueer and they are here to stay.

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Avid traveler, antisocial party-er, obsessive reader and occasionally funny person; I write to escape my life, and I live to escape my writings.
Mansi Shanbag

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