I am not a sin

 There is a space between you and me. Maybe not all of you but definitely most of you. Some of us do not talk about it and others try to. Although some might talk about it in a hateful manner. 

I sit here in my living room. The weather is at a steamy 55 degrees and rainy. Spring is approaching. And it feels so good to have renewal. I hated living in Michigan the first year I was here. It was so different than what I grew up in. The biggest thing I hated was of course the food and then it was the winter. I'm not sure where time has gone but I stayed. So I sit here on my olive green velvet couch. My Mid-century modern decor. A James Dean ad on the shelf. My cat, Frankie, playing with a wine cork by the sliding glass door. City and Colour's new album on vinyl is playing as well. I may be drinking some evening coffee and end up going to bed way too late. 

The mood feels right. I seem normal? It is a gentle and cozy Monday night. This is me. And I find it quite lovely. 

Being queer, well being masc presenting and queer has its challenges. I am in this weird box that I do not try and put myself in. Ever since I was little I hated wearing dresses. The color pink had such a correlation with gender roles for me that I hated the color pink for so so so long. Until recently I started to accept the color pink in my vocabulary. I got new curtains in my bedroom. The curtains are a cross between primrose and blush pink. I absolutely love them. 

Colors aren't meant to define gender. I loved being one of the boys when I was a kid. When I had my 5th or 6th birthday party, my mom made me invite girls other than my cousin. I invited all boys. When I had my 4th birthday party I convince everyone to take off their shirts while we sat there in the park playing games. My demeanor has been the same since day one. 

My hair is short and I wear masculine clothes. It is hard for me to understand why I need to look like a girl when these types of social norms are material things or just hair. Playing in the mud should only be for girls. Playing with barbies should only be for girls. Why? I liked both. 

For the love of god please stop misgendering me. It is just starting to get so annoying. It is always the same type of people that do it too and it is mostly men. I have a weird relationship with men. They become very chummy with me. I like it a lot. I get so bored talking about the "girly" things. But what I do does not make me a gender. Where my mind is, does. 

I feel more like a female for sure. Though oftentimes I do feel non-binary. I do not need my pronouns to change. I just can't handle being called sir, he, or him. Excuse me, sir. Have a good night now, sir. However, I do know when they think I'm a guy I get treated very differently. The women always talk to me no matter what. But the men will talk to me about cars, beer, whiskey, jobs, people, working, and how to fix things. Women tend to talk about their surroundings and it always feels more intimate than men. It is like they have talked about it before and know what to say.  

I will never understand why it is so wrong for me to wear things that aren't socially normal for a female to wear. I don't even know what that means. It is my fault that I get discriminated against because I chose to be gay right? Someone close to me said that to me. It's been a year and it still rings in my head. 

When I travel I think about what I should wear traveling. I'm alone. I'm completely alone. I'm afraid someone will cause a scene when I use the bathroom. Every single time I enter a public restroom where there are multiple stalls, I brace myself to know how to respond in case someone tries to confront me. I think I always have my guard up walking into public spaces. I've been called a faggot before in passing and other slurs at that. 

The space isn't public. The space is for white men and upper-class feminine women. I do not belong in that space. I have to be in that space to be able to have a life. Do not tell me this was a choice. Because I guess I chose life instead of death. I chose to be joyful. I may rest in the in-between but it doesn't make me dirty. There is just enough space put in between us that you refuse to really get to know me. I am not a sin, the least you can do is get my pronouns right, though.