In honor of Pride Month, I dedicate this poem to the little girl, to the teenager who couldn't find her voice but instead found confusion in the mist of pain. Found a dark love that made her embarrassed to call it by their name. Made her think twice of ever announcing who she really was/is. I dedicate this poem to myself and to anyone else who thinks they are confused because that's what society has named this label to be. You're not confused, don't you dare think you have to choose. When you love, whichever sex it happens to be love them with your whole heart and don't you ever let them go.
If I had friends that were from the LGBT+ community,
I would’ve considered myself a lesbian by now.
If I had sisters that weren’t into singing and dancing around and playing with dolls,
I would've told my parents by now.
If I wasn’t violated at a young age by a woman, who didn’t mean no harm
I wouldn’t be so confused.
If the world would be accepting of the language and the community,
I wouldn’t be so afraid.
If I wasn’t so wrapped up in thinking that liking both sexes was wrong,
I wouldn’t feel as though I’m trapped in a box.
If I could just admit to myself that it honestly doesn't matter who I marry because I’ll have children anyway,
I wouldn’t be so confused and I would learn how to accept myself just the way I view myself.
I wouldn’t be so caught up in being upset because another person can’t grasp the concept of who I am.
If I would just say it aloud and be confident in it,
I would feel so much better.
If love would just come and find me…
I would know which sex I chose.