Soooooo today a kid asked me if I was a boy or a girl. In all honesty, I was kinda shocked, yeah I'd been asked this before but I hadnt actually come to terms with my gender identity then, I had always known that I wasnt cis but I always said 'girl' in response. But this time I wanted to answer truthfully, and I went to say, 'I'm actually neither,' but that's when I realised my aunt was in the room. So you know what I did? I acted like I didn't hear the kid. I know super mature, right.
Why? You might be asking. Well thats because I'm a closeted enby. Then the kid asked again, and again I said nothing I just continued to look awkwardly at the floor, whishing that she would just go away. That's when my aunt said, 'They're a she' and my gut dropped. Like to the floor, metaphorically speaking, because they can't actually do that. I wanted to say, 'I'm not; I'm a they.' But I coudnt. It would mean I would have to face the harsh reality that is my family would most definitely change there opinions on me and I couldn't do that. I'm afraid so instead I write this blog. A blog about my life, the things I face as a closeted enby and the struggles and laughters that I create with my friends and family. But don't worry; not all my stories will be this sad and depressing. I live a fairly eventful life that is full of stupid ideas that, at the time, I think are great but ultimately dont turn out as great as I once thought.
So this is my first post. As you can tell this only happened recently but now that that intro is sort of done I might do some recounts of events that I find funny or important to get to know me.
So this is a blog. A blog about me and my life as a closeted queer person living in a small town. With no one to confide in, I thought, let's make a blog about it, and what better place to do that then Tapas. So yeah here we are.
Note: I don't know when this will update or what its gonna be about; its just my life as a high schooler, and I happen to be non-binary.
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