Trust. I hear my breath which is rather loud. Anxiety comes. I am trusting that I can do what I set out to accomplish. I am trusting myself. Some days though, it’s hard. I trust myself to move in spaces that don’t want me there. I trust myself to speak when I know there are some who really would rather not hear me. I trust myself to dress in a way that is creative and fly, knowing someone will definitely stare, and point, and laugh.

Breathing hard again, closing my eyes, hearing that voice in my head.

Trust.