I don’t want to be like you anymore

I know I make you uncomfortable

Being gender fluid and blind

Is a triple whammy

It messes up your head.

All those years I wasted

because i despaired that

I could not be like you

Wedding sangeets, showy procreations,

baby shower(s) with pink or blue balloons,

Cheerful diwali parties, gender war jokes

Birthday cakes designed like trucks or Disney princesses.

Bonhomie filled anniversaries to mark

the predictability of being hetero

You didn’t understand why I became mad

when you told me

“I tell people who wonder about you that


you are not dependent on anyone”

Sorry! Its not that easy to shelf

and put me away.

You have no sense of what it took me to get where I am

How during job interviews I needed to

To stare at your chest

So my eyes would appear like

I was looking straight into your eyes

like John Wayne,

who, you compelled me to roleplay

Deep voice, firm handshake and smoothened out nerves

To live in a Texas suburb and not drive a car

To a date or a work meeting

Where I will get rejected anyways

for being too femme or for carrying a white cane

or both

How constant loneliness and inaction was preferable to constant rejection


I never seemed to learn that to survive, watcher bees

develop redeeming qualities like

fortitude, mindfulness, gratefulness, generosity.

A gift to count my blessings,

An ability to shape-shift the arc

from being a bitter insect of pity

Into an inspirational TED Talk

But by now

I don’t want to be your hope for a diverse future

or an example for you to see that there are a myriad ways to live

I now reject the security of your future

I’m repulsed by weekend road trips with you

Your spelling bee champions don’t charm me

People like me, ignore people like you

Liked blinkered horses

But remember that without me

How would you even know

That you can kill someone’s spirit

Just by being you.