He chased me relentlessly. Why I didn’t let him catch me I don’t know. I don’t know why the bear is a he either. But as I continue to climb up buildings, up trees, up rocks, up things hanging from the sky I wonder when I’m going to wake up. And then I do wake up. Sweating like I usually do when I have nightmares. I’ve always had recurring nightmares. From since I can remember, my nights have been filled with terrifying images of animals chasing me. And they always end with me paralysed by fear, waiting for my mind to release my body. Perhaps I have these nightmares because I have always been scared. Always been running away from something. But still I don’t know what that thing is that I seem to be avoiding. Of course I’ve never read much about the meaning of nightmares. But when they keep coming and going, it makes you wonder if there is something behind those terrifying images. Perhaps these nightmares are a reflection of the life I’ve been living. A life full of anger and defensiveness. But who can blame me when my very being is constantly questioned, picked and torn at, disregarded. I am a human being who lives within many identities, all intersecting to form who I am perceived as to the outside world. And although I only see myself as human, I must acknowledge that I am also brown, queer and a woman. And these qualities will always influence how my life goes on. I am proud of what my identity means. I am queer where the rest of the world sits inside of only a few boxes. But this comes with hardship that no doubt forms these nightmares when I sleep. That bear that chases me relentlessly. Not only must he be tired, like I am. But he must be the constant danger I feel in a binary world that threatens my very existence. Or am I running away from the bear because I’m scared about what it would mean if I accepted my true identity. Because although full acceptance would mean freedom. It also means death. Death of the past self which, no doubt others will agree, is a comforting place. Or death of the physical body. Because living in this world as a queer person means risking your life in order to step into your truth. But I wonder what is more scary. Living a life in hiding, always running away from that bear or fully stepping out as you are and accepting death whether it come early or late. Whether it comes by the hands of someone who is full of rage or by the hands of death in old age.  Whichever way I go, I plan to step fully into the self, the queer body and mind I was blessed with and not be scared the next time I close my eyes and the bear appears again. Because whether that bear represents the binary world or the consequences of accepting my true identity, I will always be queer in a world where anything outside boxes does not exist.