Embracing Eli

Lately I’ve been experiencing a weird feeling inside myself. I watch a youtuber that identifies as nonbinary, and I am fascinated by them. I like the idea of not using gender specific pronouns, yet I also feel like I cling to my she/her pronouns for dear life.
When I was nine years old, I had to cut all my lovely curly long hair off due to head lice, and because of that I was referred to as a boy. It didn’t help that I was wearing my brothers hand-me-downs. I was so offended, and despised that substitute teacher for the rest of my elementary and middle school existence. In grade twelve I had beautiful long, and coloured hair. I destroyed it by bleaching it to much, and had to chop it all off going into year thirteen of high school. (I went back by choice.) Again I was offended when someone called me a boy, because it was so deeply ingrained in me that I was supposed to be a female, who liked males.
I came out as Bisexual in grade eleven to my friends and a few of my family members, but I didn’t openly discuss it with my foster parents because I figured that they would accept it. So being misgendered felt awful, and made me feel so self conscious about myself. I started to go into even more of a self hatred. By the time I was in my  first year of hair school, I felt more confident in my short hair. My boyfriend loved me with long hair, and still loved me with short hair. My friends didn’t care what the length of my hair was, and neither did I.
Now fast forward two years, and I’m trying to grow my hair out. Not because I don’t love it short, but because I haven’t seen myself with long hair in forever. In the last year I have been diagnosed with Complex Post Traumatic Stress disorder, General Anxiety disorder, Social Anxiety disorder, and Panic disorder. Because of the mixture of all these, I have many panic attacks, some of them so bad that I almost pass out. My clothing will be too tight, and I will fall apart, because in my head I am this fat disgusting monster, when in reality I am an averagely sized person. So lately I’ve started to wear my boyfriends clothing, and I feel so much more confident and comfortable.
Watching this nonbinary youtuber had gotten me to question whether or not I like the use of female pronouns for myself, and in all honesty, I could care less if someone used He/Him or She/Her pronouns to describe me. I’m me, and I don’t depend on these pronouns to be me. I have been doing a lot of thinking about it lately, and I have decided that I like dressing more Androgynous. I’ve also decided to go by a more masculine name, but that won’t be changed on any social media until I move from where I am living now, because the roommates I currently have are great, but I feel like they wouldn’t understand, because they don’t understand why I like to wear my boyfriends clothing.
The name I have chosen to go by once I move is Eli. My boyfriend says he will love me regardless of my name, and I’ve told him he can use any pronouns he would like, as long as he can try to call me Eli. When we move, we will be living with my best friend. He is gay, and is somewhat in the same mindset as me, where he wants to appear more gender neutral. I look forward to the journey I will be embarking on, and I am so grateful that I have my boyfriend to support me through it, and a best friend to take the journey with.
Sincerely,
Eli.

To the Boy Who’ll Never Love Me

I know that I can be complicated, and frustrating. I know that I can be cruel, or over emotional. I can be many negative things, but I have so many good things about me. I love with all my heart. All I ever wanted to do was love your broken pieces, so that one day they’d be whole again. I fell in love with the façade you allowed me to see, then destroyed it all by allowing me to see the true you. 

You lead me to believe that you cared for me, even in the smallest way, but today you proved otherwise. It’s funny how a person can desire someone for so long, and never even get a fraction of that desire back. 

But it’s strange. I’ve come to the realization, that your rejection doesn’t kill me like it did before. It may have to do with me pouring my heart out to you. I told you I loved you, you said nothing, yet I still feel 100x better. Maybe I should have done that all along. 

I love you R. I feel like I might have always been in love. I went from watching you from afar, to calling you my friend, to realizing that these feelings were more than lust. Because you see, I didn’t want you for your body. I wanted you for your mind. For all the things I knew you really had to offer the world. You on the other hand, clearly just wanted me for sex. 

I hope that you’ll read this someday, and that it’ll make a ping in your gut to tell you that it was about you. I love you more than I ever could have told you too your face, but you’ll always just be the boy who never loved me back. 

Back to Where I started

I find it really hard when we can’t choose who we love and when. In life our hearts just decide on a person and you are left to deal with whatever situations arise from those feelings. I deal with the constant struggle of feeling guilty because I love who I am with, but I’ve also realized that my feelings for another has grown past the stage of liking. I’ve known this one individual for three years now, and I have liked him from the very first moment I laid eyes upon him, but I’ve been with my boyfriend for two years now.

I had been able to resist these feelings up until this past summer, because he had never had the same feelings. This summer he admitted to liking me too. We tried to be together and it didn’t work out. I was devastated and didn’t know what to do with myself. People started to worry that I was becoming an alcoholic due to how often I got drunk in a single week. Him and I hadn’t talked for just over six months, until recently. We got back in touch, and I was instantly reminded of how I felt about him.

He asked if I still liked him, and I told him my honest answer. When I asked when he stopped liking me, he took a long time to give me a straight answer. Eventually he told me that I was basically pretty but not datable, “if that makes sense”. I know it’s because we didn’t work out before, but that doesn’t change how much I wish we could try again. I know it’s not fair to who I’m with now, but I can’t keep denying it. It causes me a lot of pain to keep it hidden, or to try and convince myself that I don’t feel this way anymore.

I know that we’ll never be together, and I’ve come to terms with that as long as I can still have him as my friend. I write letters to him sometimes, but I never send them, nor will he ever see them. It’s for my own benefit, and I don’t think he would take the words written in it that well. I just wish that we could discuss the events that took place this summer, but he doesn’t want to bring it up and reopen the wounds that have slowly been healing for me.  It’s funny because I’ve been waiting for him to tell me he still had feelings for me for the last six months, and when he finally does, I don’t know how to respond. I want to tell him 100% how I feel about him, but I rather not scare him away again.

I Want to Live

I want to live my life as freely and happily as possible. I want to travel the world and live an adventure. I want to meet different people and be able to tell my children and grand children about all the things I used to do. 

I want to fall in love so hard that it hurts to think of my life without that person. I want to breathe so much joy and enthusiasm into the world that generation after generation will be able to feel the mark I left behind. 

I want so badly for my life to be filled with magic. Filled to the brim with hope, joy, and love, always love. 

I long to make a difference, to help others as much as I possibly can. I want to try my hardest to make this world a better place. 

I want so desperately, so utterly completely, with 100% of my being, to live.