I am a twenty-year old queer with a pocket knife and a rosary. I guard my sexuality from ridicule, misunderstandings, and violence. I refuse my sex to be dissected as blueprints of the great design by outsiders again. I fight to be free from fear without evildoers piercing my hands and feet onto a fence in Colorado.
In being able to confront the hierarchy of Catholicism, I reclaimed what was important to me—community and ceremony. I sought out others who wore rosaries and devotional bracelets to gay bars and who saw, like I did, the queerness within the rituals and iconography of the Church or those who playfully invented it.
Brown boys aren’t taught how to be open, communicative, or honest about our sadness. The resulting isolation is slowly killing us. Learning to love yourself is a lifelong journey that often feels impossible, but by bridging the fragmented parts of ourselves, our vulnerability will allow us to build a world where we can love and be loved.