Becoming Myself

I am a girl,

Because I was born with two chromosomes.

But sometimes I act like a boy,

Because being “lady-like” is too mundane.

I am a great-granddaughter,

Because a love story occurred so many years ago.

I am a daughter,

Because my parents liked each other that much.

I am old,

Because I have seen both love and pain.

But I am young,

Because I have yet to experience them myself.

I am a cousin,

Because in other parts of the world, my relatives loved others and wanted to express it.

I am a friend,

Because I care for others and let them borrow my sweater.

I am a fighter,

Because I struggle to keep alive each day.

But I am a survivor,

Because I am still here.

I am a sister,

Because my parents still liked each other later.

I am an aunt,

Because my sister found love in a man who worked with birds.

I am hated,

Because someone doesn’t see the world the way I do and refuses to open their mind.

But I am loved,

Because someone likes the way I look at life and the lines in my hands.

I am becoming.

What more am I than becoming?