I remember thinking that Kimberly, The Pink Ranger, was the best because she was so pretty.

I remember marrying the neighbor girl using a rainbow blanket as a dress.

I remember playing base ball with the boys and being bruised and muddy.

I remember sneaking to watch Titanic because I could see Kate Winslet naked.

I remember watching Star Wars, Mars Attacks, and other movies so I could watch Natalie Portman.

I remember hanging her poster up across from my bed so every morning I could wake up and stare at her.

I remember all the girls having crushes on boys and feeling awkward.

I remember the first time I saw “All The Things She Said” and how it made me cry that everyone found it disgusting.

I remember my friend and I talking about how it must be a phase and that we were normal.

I remember going online as a boy so that I could flirt with all the girls.

I remember seeing Ellen DeGeneres for the very first time and wishing I could be as brave as her.

I remember crying myself to sleep.

I remember slitting my wrists and hoping that I never woke up again.

I remember standing in the grass, screaming at the sky asking, “Why did you do this to me!? Why did you damn me to this?”

I remember repeatedly wishing something would fix my problem.

I remember coming out, how I cried as I told people with my head turned down, ready to be rejected.

I remember becoming comfortable in my own skin only to be shunned and taunted.

I remember coming home black and blue and lying saying we were only wrestling.

I remember studying the curves of a woman’s body and thinking they were the most beautiful landscape.

I remember being grabbed by the arm and pulled away from view by a man who was confident he could fix me.

I remember being escorted into the office over whose hand I was holding.

I remember being forced to “apologize” to a parent for a small kiss.

I remember refusing to report the different abuses and harassments because I knew the punishment would not be worth the second beating I would get.

I remember seeing South of Nowhere and being so excited to see a part of myself represented on television.

I remember the sadness I felt when I was repeatedly told that I was damned to hell.

I remember the look of rage on my father’s face when he realized it wasn’t just a phase.

I remember the painful spots where his hands grabbed to throw me around.

I remember every disappointed look I was given, every slur shouted at me, every threat uttered, and every fist contact.

I remember but I no longer regret.

I remember finding my place in this world no matter the cost and becoming stronger for it.

I am here.

I am queer.

And I remember.