The ache in my gut had grown out of control. The anxiety of finally being me was earth- crushing. They told me it would be a breath of fresh air. To have pride and put myself out there.

The ache in my gut had grown out of control.

The anxiety of finally being me was earth-crushing.

They told me it would be a breath of fresh air.

To have pride and put myself out there.

I sat in front of my mirror.

The doubts that society had planted within me.

Sprouted, shooting thousands of pre-programmed hateful words and actions.

Shattering who I am into a million pieces.

Sending floods of confusion and ideas like maybe I'm just faking it.

Weeds of insecurity and self bitterness spread through me like the plague.

Setting a root to my garden of self, leaving nothing but withered flowers.

In this time of uncertain, I realised,

I finally see past the lenses of those who have never lived life like me.

Past their ideas of what my life should be.

I understand that They do not dictate or validate my identity or experience.

There is no right way to be me.

The years of time and care, the weeks of kindness and self-love,

Remind me that the image of the person staring back at me,

Wasn't a dream, they aren't wrong or ungodly.

They are me, and there is nothing wrong with me.

Written by Ridda Bates (Year 13).