For Leelah

Everyday from this point on I want to dedicated a little of my life to Leelah.

Every morning I’ll look at myself in the mirror and say, “For Leelah I’ll be an amazing aly to my fellow trans* peers, I might not be able to fix their problems but I can give them support and sometimes that’s the greatest gift.”

I will glance at my hands and tell myself, “For Leelah I’ll use my talent in writing to tell the stories of forgotten faces, I’ll give a voice to those who have been silent for too long.”

I’ll look back up to the mirror and stare in my eyes and say, “For Leelah I will only see the beauty in others, and the way they are. I will never try to change anyone, no matter what.”

I’ll become aware of my mouth and whisper, “For Leelah I’ll never use my words without making sure that no one will get hurt. I will never shot someone down, never tell them they’re wrong as a person, or that they’re fake. y words will only be kind and thoughtful.”

I will not only do this for Leelah but for any youth that have struggled because they’re part of a minority.

For the kids whose parents put them in some twisted therapy because they think there’s something wrong with their gender or sexuality.

For the kids who are followed around or constantly accused of stealing because the color of their skin.

For the kids who go through life being called the R word because they learn at a slower pace.

For the kids who only feel safe secluded in their bedroom because media told them they’re an outcast because they’re a virgin.

For the kids who feel the need to drown their sorrows in heavy amounts of food because their peers call them fatty.

For the kids who’d rather skip dinner then sit with their family because their parents and siblings are their biggest bullies.

For anyone who feels like less than a person because someone else found it okay to shame, or try to change them.

Lastly, for Leelah I will help anyone I can in anyway I can. Even if it’s the smallest thing like listening to their story because EVERYONE’S lives matter, and you never know how you could affect someones.

If someones asks me why I do this, I’ll say “Leelah could have been my best friend, she could have been my sister, my niece, or my daughter, and she could have been yours too.” If we shut down our youth and tell them they can’t be who they are then Leelah died for nothing, and she made it clear that’s not what she wanted. 

(I wrote this poem for a Vigal my youth group did for Leelah.)