April 21, 2025
by Kendra Molina

Sometimes I catch myself spiraling into a daydream, halfway between truth and confusion. It starts with a look, a feeling. Like when I saw Anna laughing at something trivial and her face lit up like she was crafted from light itself—skin so pale and soft it reminded me of porcelain dolls I used to be too clumsy to touch. There’s something in the way she carries herself, like she knows how delicate she is, but doesn’t mind it.

Then there was this other girl. She walked into the sandwich shop on 8th last week while I was pretending to scroll through my phone. She had that tall, graceful sort of presence that makes everything around her go quieter for a second. I watched her order, then walk past me, and for a split second, I thought, I want to be her. Or maybe be with her. I still don’t know which.

Sometimes I think maybe I’m a lesbian. But then I second-guess myself and wonder if I’m just desperately drawn to something I feel I lack. There’s a softness, a sweetness in women that feels like a kind of gravity. I wasn’t really raised around many women, and the ones I did know always felt far away, unreachable.

Maybe I just crave femininity because somewhere deep down, I don’t believe I fully have it myself.

I don’t know what that makes me. But I know it makes me feel something.