I woke up this morning with my cheek pressed into the pillow, feeling the pillowcase lines on my face. It’s funny how a simple thing like that can remind me I’m here, in this body, right now. I lay there for a minute, not rushing to get up, just letting myself be. There’s a small comfort in knowing nobody else will see these lines but me.
Sometimes I forget how much my skin holds. Not just the softness, but the history. The way I move through the world, Black and queer, is something I carry even when I’m alone in my room. I don’t always feel brave or bold. Most days I’m just… present, in the quiet way that feels right for me. There’s a small relief in not having to perform anything for anyone.
I checked my phone out of habit, scrolled through messages, saw a meme that made me laugh out loud. It’s nice to laugh at something and feel it settle in my chest, warm and easy. I don’t always let myself notice these tiny joys. I guess today I did.
Looking at myself in the bathroom mirror, I noticed the way the light hit my skin. Not in a dramatic, movie-moment way. Just regular, everyday light. I touched my face, felt the shape of my jaw, my own hands familiar. It’s not about loving everything I see. It’s more like, I’m here. I belong to myself. That’s enough for today.
I think about how queerness feels in my body, sometimes loud and sometimes quiet. Today it’s quiet. The kind of quiet that feels like sitting with a friend who doesn’t need me to say anything wise. Just being here is enough.
I put on my favorite shirt, the one that fits just right, and it made me smile a little. I’m not planning to do anything special. I just want to feel comfortable in my own skin, for myself, in this one small moment. That feels real. That feels good.