I carry more than I can hold. Dreams of what I hope to do, what I make of my mental health. I hold dozens of books, carried close to my heart. Some finished, many part way through, and even fewer finished completely. My story isn’t over, even if my soul is crying to stay in this very moment, alone. The weight is just enough to be comforting, but I know one more will crush me. And, yet, I yearn for more. 

I carry my desire to stray from the politics I’ve known my entire life, the same ones that tear families and generations apart. The political ideals that nearly always only care about themselves, or the way to follow the money, never taking the time to see how their policies truly affect the people they need the most to keep votes. Keeping people from joy and safety. It’s light enough to carry, but so much harder to hold out to someone. I won’t keep people from being happy, or getting the help they need. I’m not a monster. Not like some other people. 

I carry love, imposter syndrome, headaches, photosensitivity, excitement for music, reading, drawing, video games, burnout, autism, ADHD, keys, chapstick. I carry my stuffed animals, and my Switch, and phone, and my hoodie. 

I carry the weight of applying for my first job, a heavy burden to do well. Everyone tells me how wonderful it will be to work with others, but I can only focus on my anxiety. The pressure of being normal. It weighs more than I was prepared for.

I carry gender dysphoria. I carry dysmorphia. I can’t bear to look at myself, my body never fitting what I wish I could see. Too many curves, too soft of features. What I wouldn’t give to change it all. To not worry about facial proportions in pictures. Take myself apart like a doll, put myself back together the way I wish I looked. To be a man, once and for all.

I carry my heart necklace, something small that keeps me grounded. It’s light, but never comes off. The reminder of being loved holds more weight than physically quantifiable, and I’ve never felt more myself than with it on. I feel comforted by the changing colors, as I keep it on over the years, above my own beating heart. I carry so much, and sometimes, I carry more than I can hold.