Gender identity freezes my heart, resulting in deep thinking and shallow, painful cuts.
Confusion and uncertainty serve to magnify my desperation for answers.
What am I?
Not knowing which way to turn, I look upwards shouting: “I love the sunshine.”
The sun’s neutrality calms my anxieties.
Liberated, I chase my new, heavenly saviour around the beaches of Europe.
In France, Le Soleil is masculine. He heats up my body.
In Germany, Die Sonne is feminine. She wraps me in her rays.
If the sun isn’t clear about its identity, surely I can live a colourful life beneath its glorious rainbows.
Published: Retreat West