Noted

1

I swished the room temperature water into the back my throat, drowning the pills that had entered my mouth first. I swallowed, hoping the medicine would kick in and numb my headache before I got to the store. Reading with a headache is like trying to squeeze water from a stone. It's basically impossible; and hurts like hell.

After what felt like forever, the subway finally screeched to a stop, and everyone began pouring out, immediately. I waited until it was mostly empty, and I could slip out with little to no contact with any other people. It was much easier to wait than trying to squeeze out and possibly angering someone. I've only had that happen once, and since then I have learned not to be the person who has to be out as soon as the doors open.

I step out onto the cement floor, much different from the rubberish flooring of the subway car, and take in a deep breath of the humid, body-odor, sweat-filled station. Nothing better than the natural scent of New York.

Having lived in a place like New York for your whole life, it's easy to get used to everyday happenings like the pungent smell of a subway station and the crowded streets, but I'll never get used to the looks I get from people because of the outfits I wear.

If it happened to be a rather thin girl who was wearing the clothes I wear, she probably wouldn't get as many stares, but as a woman who carries quite a few pounds over a size 10, people tend to look.

Each morning I pick out my outfits according to what I will be doing that day, and today I picked out something comfortable but still cute since I know I will be at the shopping strip all day. I have on a maxi skirt that sits high on the waist, a cami, and a swimsuit coverup that I got from Walmart, but I like to wear it as a cardigan. Things like this make me feel really good about my body so I try not to think twice when people say I look overdressed for certain occasions wearing what I wear. However, the look isn't complete without a bunch of layered necklaces and a bandana wrapped in my short mane, resting on the top of my head.

Every part of my outfit sits perfectly on my body, which is why I adopted the "fairy-slash-boho" type of style - as it's called on my Pinterest board - since the pieces most commonly found in that style accentuate my body shape in all the right places.

But I don't let it go to my head since I've never even been on a date, let alone had my first kiss yet, at the ripe age of 22.

I squint my eyes as I emerge out onto the busy sidewalk, people hurrying in every direction. Birds chirp and a smile appears on my face as I feel the effects of the medication I had taken earlier; my headache is pretty much completely gone.

A few yards away from the entrance to the subway station is where my local bookstore sits. It has been a while since I've last been since I needed the time to catch up on several novels I've had waiting for me on my shelf. Now that I am all caught up, I'm ready to make another trip to my second home: 'Joan's Reads'.

Joan is my aunt, the store's owner, and also the only extended relative I still have contact with. After I came out as bisexual to my immediate family and a few friends, I decided to make a post on my social media so I wouldn't need to call each one of my relatives individually.

Let's just say they didn't take it well.

I got several messages and phone calls from people telling me how they couldn't support someone who "lived that lifestyle" and that I should let them know when my silly phase was over.

I cried for days after that. I had to turn my phone off because the backlash had gotten so bad. At one point, I considered going back into the closet so that my family would talk to me again, but my older sister, Crystal, talked me out of it. She made me realize it wasn't my fault I was different, and that it was their problem if they couldn't accept me for who I was.