Loving in Danger

Some moments in life only happen when we are open to them. Breathing deeply in a windy forest under a full moon, I felt the pull for change a kind of transgression. Inside, I began to hunt the pleasure of being alive, existing and insisting that, above all, I am a soul first. My dreams took form, bending what is tangible and possible, and I discovered the beginning of my belief in magic. Only a few parts of ourselves are suitable for consumption. In the world we create, we are the protagonists of our own stories, where everything is fluid. Love and intimacy inhabit our universe, yet only select parts of us can be shared. The rest remains ours, quietly surrounding us. There was no longer any division between reality and fantasy. It felt like unlocking the most pure and dangerous part of childhood the spontaneous thrill of action. To kill, to die, to love, to scream, or to burn feverishly without guilt exposing this infernal light within me. My betrayal of family beliefs sparked a renewed sense of intimacy with life, an exhilarating rebellion. In Brazil, some of us learned to treat danger like a trivial card to play in the grander challenge of existing. As I got to know them, intimacy mingled with sympathy and identification, shared ideals collided with the unknown. Every move became an act of luckiness. Living alongside fear is possible because “if we only cared about fear, we wouldn’t exist.” Every stab of shame that pulls lives apart, every pang of uncertainty and yet, I’m here, afraid but present, because if we cease to feel anything at all, we lose track of what causes us pain, not to mention what excites us and delights us. I am queer. I am gay. I am sad. I am angry. I am strong. I am sensitive. I am scared. I am talented. I am exhausted. I am trans. I am queer. The transformation the world most needs is the shift from false selves to true selves. We grow up in a society that denies us authority over our bodies, our dignity, our beauty. But divinity isn’t something we wait for in death it’s here, available, when we put in the work and realize that time isn’t on slots and love is a mission. I belong in this world, and my place is to be alive. The tenderness of my senses, the joy of contemplating our bodies, the desire to look into each eye, from the most trivial gestures, choosing us on the way to happiness and in alerting us to the danger among us.