Why Don’t You Love Me?

There would be those times underneath the moonlight, I would gaze into imaginary projections of the future that would be surrounded by clouds that would magically morph into mystical creatures. I would sit in the sand and reflect as the breeze caressed my face, providing a temporary comfort I yearned to become forever. I was exasperated. Continuously fighting to prove my right to exist. Rebuking derogatory phrases like “sissy” and “faggot.” Most people never bother to even inquire why you are the way you are, they simply see something they either don’t understand or care to understand and you’re automatically placed in a category to be “cleansed”. Forget the fact that you may be confused yourself. Startled by the unexpected waves of same-sex attraction. Uncertain of how you should go about analyzing these new found emotions, because all your life you’ve been told that the very thing you’re experiencing is nothing short of an abomination. The “sin of all sins.” Straight to hell with no questions. At least that’s what my mother said after she asked me why I tried to take my life and I told her, “I just can’t handle being different. Even you don’t love who I am.”

GoGo da ne?


You see it’s different when you’re what most would consider effeminate. Easily targeted by homophobia. Your voice isn’t that deep. You may or may not have a lot of facial hair. Your mannerisms are obviously less masculine than that of your stereotypical male. Everyone assumes you want to be a female because after all, why else would you be “acting” like a girl? Wrong! I am who I am, not who you feel or say I should be. These boxes, fucked up and out-dated boxes, are nothing but constraints to hinder self-worth and further oppression. As if you have to be masculine to be considered worthy of love and affection. Like being brawny automatically propels you further into life than any one else. Yet it is that type of toxic mentality that creates so much malice and tragedy. It pulls some already questioning their own existence closer to an eternal slumber, further into a world of solitude because the reality visualized doesn’t provide a safe space of self-expression. Some people will do their absolute best to remain blithely unaware of the vast diversity of humanity. No matter what they, always remember there’s something for everybody. Don’t ever sweat someone who would seriously make you feel less than and/or unattractive because you don’t fit into the confines of their realm of masculinity. “Middle fingers up, tell em BOY BYE!”

Alex N. Wanderland

You Will Deal

Underneath the moonlight, I was able to be emancipated. Joined by the dancing twinkle of the stars and nature would provide a melody that created a song only I knew the words to. I somehow became bestowed with power: ignited fires and determination to riot against the hatred. Why should I beg to be who I am? Why should I cry because people can’t look beyond the surface and dive to deeper, complex dimensions? Their limits should not limit me. The boundaries of their minds do not hinder my intellect. I refuse to believe I’m anything other than what I believe of myself. Yes, years ago, the internal struggles were so consuming I almost became engulfed in it. Incapable of undergoing metamorphosis because I could not fathom great potential. I was always told I would end up a disgrace, nothing but a memory waiting to be anxiously erased. Standing on the other side, reclaiming my pride, time, energy, and LIFE: it’s easier to deflect the negativity others try to project. I’m not saying you have to like it, understand it, or even acknowledge it, BUT IT’S HERE! I’M HERE! YOU WILL DEAL!

  • Alex N. Wanderland