I was never a conventional kind of girl.
I wore puffy, cutesy dresses, and then dirtied-up jeans and a turtleneck. I’d play with my teddy bears, covered in ribbons, right next to my little cars, zoom zooming away.
My hair stretched long, past my hips, thin golden waves in the wind. My face, un-caked.
I’d be a girl scout, playing tough in the woods, and run around the playground with the boys at school, just one of them. I’d point my toes forward in ballet, and flip a man in defense classes.
Years have passed.
I wear cute dresses, vintage sexuality galore, and then high-waisted jeans with a men’s button, lusting for a pleather jacket, lipstick smile on my face. I hold a BA in Theatre Design and Technology in my hands.
My hair, only going to just past my shoulder blades, golden waves becoming dimmed sunshine. My face goes from naked, to the slightest taste of foundation, mascara, and eyebrow perfection, to black enveloping my lids, purple lipstick making my pout intensified.
I love to design for the theatre, and wonder what it’d be like to direct. I write so I can breathe. I move on the dance floor, and walk alone at night to feel life, knowing I’ll be just fine.
These days come with new things to call yourself.
So I wonder –
Am I Queer?
Well. Queer Theory states that everything outside of the heteronormative is Queer.
There are those who fall coincidentally into that world, and those who brought into that world.
I never was a conventional kind of girl.
I live in the middle, passing and not passing.
I take an interest in men for most occasions, but I don’t dress like that sweet girl they crave to know. I am Wednesday Addams in thigh highs with ruby red lips and a quiet eye.
I never really fit in with anyone’s plan.
Am I Queer?
After all, I could never conform. I am no one’s conventional girl.