You Saw Me Whole
In the storm of shouted hate, you stood — quiet, unwavering — not for reward, not for show, but because love called you there. While laws were written to erase me, you learned to say my name like it had always been mine. You listened, even when it hurt. I stood half-formed in my becoming, unsure, unseen, unclaimed, and still, you looked with steady eyes and said, “I see her.” Before I knew what beauty meant, you reflected it back to me. Your voice, a lantern in the dark. Your hand, extended when others pulled away. You asked nothing but dared everything. You chose to risk your peace for ours. Ally is too small a word. You are kin by courage, family by firelight, a witness to truth in flesh and soul. I walk freer because you stayed. I speak louder because you believed. I am whole because you saw me that way. For my sisters, Suzanne and Rachel, who saw me whole before the world did. Your love gave me the courage to live as my whole self. ...