Dear high school me,
Take a moment to relax your shoulders, unclench your jaw and just breathe. There’s this weird uncomfortable feeling you’re feeling right now and you can’t quite name it. Well, we figured out what the name of that was, and naming it made us feel a little bit better.
I want to let you know that you were right about how you were feeling. You did wait until college to get fully comfortable in your skin, and we’re still learning more about ourselves every day. Like I bought Birks for myself a few months ago, fully knowing that younger you would have protested. In all due respect, young me, these shoes are easy to slip on and are immensely comfortable. You got settled in the one thing that was itching at your neck throughout your four years, and even learned a lot more about yourself than you were expecting.
Remember when you watched that video about this one human coming out as agender to their mother? Your heart exploded into a million pieces and reformed into a brightly colored star when you realized humans come in more than two genders. You messaged your friend (who you’re still close to) telling him how badly you wanted a binder to press down your chest. You made a makeshift binder out of the compressor underwear you had laying around, cut a hole for your arms and head, and wore it in the house, proud that your chest was gone?
You ignored that part of yourself for so long, buried it deep with the unmarked memories we choose to forget. Somehow, that memory left a mark on our psyche, and we never brought it up until college.
You will meet people who will take you under their wing and guide you through this odd time. You will doubt yourself, doubt your identity. But you will look back on those pictures you thought you were happy in and realize that you are so happy being non-binary.
You get to dye your hair, and you get to use different pronouns too.
You’d be so excited to see how far we’ve come.