November 2026 "A Day in My Shoes" by Wyatt Armitage

I wake up in the morning                                                   

just like any normal person does.

My alarm blares at 6 am,

and I hit snooze, naturally,

cause girl,

let’s be so real right now.

There is absolutely nothing I need to be doing

at six in the morning.

Eventually I drag my fat ass out of bed,

walk to the bathroom

before I have even brushed my teeth.

Fifteen minutes have passed.

Just me,

standing in front of a mirror.

Now, you might think I'm admiring myself, 

and trust me, baby,

some mornings I am.

But this morning I am doing anything but that.

This morning, I'm deciding

how much of myself

I'm going to let the world see.

Is my voice too feminine?

Are my clothes too much?

Should I laugh a little quieter?

Funny.

We're told our entire lives to be ourselves

until we actually are.

Then suddenly,

there are terms and conditions.

But whatever.

I fix my hair,

put on whatever makes me happy,

and walk outside.

Another beautiful day

of minding my own business.

Unfortunately,

Everybody else seems to be minding mine. 

"Why do you have to act so gay?"

I'm sorry.

Would you prefer I act straight?

Because I've seen how some of you men act,

and baby,

I'm going to respectfully decline.

Everybody laughs.

Including me.

Because sometimes I make the joke first

so you don't get the satisfaction

of making it about me.

Sometimes I smile

because people are more comfortable

with a gay man who entertains them

than one who tells them they've hurt him.

And then comes my favorite.

"It's a choice."

Oh, it's a choice?

Well, shit.

I must have missed that meeting.

Because when did you choose to be straight?

Was it before or after you realized

the world would never ask you

to apologize for it?

When you fall in love,

it's beautiful; it's amazing.

I fall in love,

and suddenly it's political.

And isn't that just so interesting

how quickly some people will quote scripture

because they want to condemn somebody?

It’s so easy to do,

but when it comes to loving your neighbor,

everybody's suddenly forgotten how to read.

Eventually, I come home.

I stand in front of that same mirror.

Only now 

there's nobody around to entertain.

And for the first time all day,

I let my face fall 

because I'm tired.

Not of being gay.

I'm tired of being reminded

that it's something people think

I should be ashamed of.

I'm tired of laughing at jokes

that were never funny.

And I'm tired of pretending

your words don't hurt

because they do.

They follow me home.

Sometimes I hear them

in my own voice.

And that's what your ignorance does.

It teaches somebody to question their worth

long after you've forgotten what you said.

So tomorrow morning,

I'm going to wake up.

I'm going to hit that damn snooze button.

I'm going to stand in front of that mirror.

And I'm going to put on

whatever the hell I want.

Walk the way I walk.

Talk the way I talk.

Laugh as loudly as I please.

And if that makes you uncomfortable,

good.

Because maybe, for once, 

you'll understand what it's like

to feel uncomfortable

simply because somebody else

doesn't approve of who you are.

And if you think I'm too feminine,

too loud,

or too gay,

baby, I have wonderful news.

You don't have to be me.

But I do.

And I will be.

Because I refuse to spend my life

apologizing for the person

I spent so many years trying to find.

So before you go to bed tonight,

ask yourself one question.

Have you ever been the reason

somebody stood in front of a mirror

and wished they were different?

Because I have.

And the most heartbreaking part

is that there was never

anything wrong with me

in the first place.

I was never asking you to love me.

I was asking you

to stop making it so difficult

for me to love myself,

because being gay

was never what made my life difficult.

It was people like you

who decided it should be.