I am comfortable in my own skin, I identify as non-binary and do not care about the judgement of others. Yet I think back to my childhood; spent in constant fear and persecution. Somewhere inside me that little boy still hides alone, curled in a fetal position, under the school desk, fearful of the taunts and insults of his classmates.
Every day began with the same dread in the pit of my stomach and ended with the same nervous glances over my shoulder, fearful of the judgement of others. Most scars faded over time, yet the fear and isolation that haunted my childhood is a wound that stays with me until this day.