Everything feels wrong. On the inside, hidden away where no one knows and no one can ever know. My own name falls reluctantly off my lips when I'm asked to say it. But I still respond when someone calls it out because that is my name and has been since the day I came to this world. So I stay quiet because words don't work and no one will understand. Quietly rolling it around in my head, convincing myself that it is my own name. I shouldn't need to be convinced. I shouldn't want to change it. I shouldn't be different. But I am. Quietly, secretly, different.
