I'm Not Like Other Girls

I'm not like other girls.

But only because I am not seen as one anymore.

When I was a little girl,

My favorite princess was Ariel.

I had a princess themed bedroom

And a pink baby doll I affectionately named...

Pinkbaby.

I loved painting my nails

And wearing makeup

Styling my hair

And getting dressed up

I loved playing with Barbie dolls

and Polly Pockets

Pixel Chix and Littlest Pet Shops

I don't regret becoming myself

But in becoming myself,

I feel I have lost a part of myself

There was a man in a support group

who once said to a friend,

I feel I have lost a solidarity with cis women

That I never gained with cis men.

Because women no longer see me

As one of them

And men don't share a past with me.

I never learned how to be a man

How to talk with the radiance

and confidence

Shone from a thousand suns

I was never told that

my thoughts mattered

Or that there existed space

that belonged to me

My community grows smaller and smaller

As I lose my ability to relate

No one sees me for who I truly am

And my past often goes ignored

But most people think

I'm a man now, right?

Wasn't that supposed to be fine?

But I'm not a man

And never will be

Complete nonbinary design

I feel unseen

Hidden and fake

Assimilated in disguise

I feel glossed over

I feel infinitely small

Because a privilege rooted

in the erasure of identity

is not truly a privilege at all.