I STILL MISGENDER MYSELF WHEN CYNDI LAUPER PLAYS
After Lyd Havens
As the last note of Silver Springs plays
and in the liminal space between songs in the club,
I think I spot myself on the dancefloor.
I know no one is stupid enough to bring a child to a queer club,
especially a four-year-old.
I see her there and she runs to the crowd
and I have to be a babysitter for myself as the songs change,
it’s not quite 70’s discotheque, but close enough.
As I push my way through the sea of people
I spot her
in the center of the dance floor
as the first notes of Cyndi Lauper start playing.
I think of all the times I used to refuse dresses,
how I grew out my hair at five to hide behind it,
how I used to racehorse to the end of my own life,
and it is wiped away as I see her look at me,
as she reaches out her hands
to a man she’s never seen before and
never will know, and yet she does.
As I take her hands and she stands on my feet,
the echoes of the 80’s, times long past,
the so many we’ve lost and the many we’ve gained,
sound in my ears.
And we dance.
Then it hits me. It’s trans night.
And everyone here is dancing with a version of themselves
they thought they would never reach.
I can’t help the tears as they fall, euphoria hitting all at once.
She comforts me, and she is me and I am she and we are he.
I cry into her shoulder and tell her
You will make it.
As Cyndi Lauper plays
We’re not the fortunate ones, oh
[ ] just wanna have fun.
Irving Benitez (he/him) is a trans, queer, multi-disabled poet, writer, and performer from North East Ohio. He hopes you enjoy his work. You can find Irving everywhere online under either @Jellyfishlines or @Sea_Minor_ on Twitter and at Bluesky @jellyfishlines.bsky.social and @seaminor.bsky.social.