come out, yes. and that isn’t the end, it is a first time to practice becoming yourself.
come out within yourself by noticing what your heart moves towards and what makes your root pulse.
come out into your true voice, in a confession, to a beloved, who is surprised, or who is never surprised.
come out by letting your gaze linger, your smile hint, your questions press.
come out with the new look that lets people know who you are, that fashion that doesn’t give a fuck, or fashion that cares very much.
come out with a kiss that takes your breath away, a kiss you didn’t know was possible, kisses that pull fire from the core of the earth into your belly.
come out as a lover, and be wild with your desires, or shockingly tame in your satisfactions, or both, and, ever shifting.
come out as a weirdo, and be deliciously odd as you race away from constructs and deconstructs.
come out as one who doesn’t know anymore what they were so sure about, but is delighted by the mystery.
but don’t stop there. don’t stop now. keep changing. keep going. never aim for normal, aim for you, utterly and dreamily you.