my pronouns live in the space between heartbeats

they

them

theirs

such small words

to carry

the entire universe

of who i am

but every time

someone says them

about me

my heart

skips

like it's learning

a new rhythm

like it's remembering

how to beat

correctly

for the first time

in twenty-three years

i used to hold my breath

waiting

for the inevitable

she

slicing through conversations

about me

like a knife

through soft flesh

making me bleed

in places

no one could see

each wrong pronoun

a small death

a tiny erasure

of the person

i know myself

to be

but they

they feels like

coming home

to a house

i've been building

in secret

my whole life

the first time

my coworker

used them

without thinking

without pausing

without that moment

of visible effort

i had to excuse myself

to the bathroom

and cry

not from sadness

but from relief

so profound

it felt like drowning

in reverse

like surfacing

after holding my breath

underwater

for decades

now i notice

the space

between heartbeats

where my pronouns live

that pause

before someone

decides

how to see me

how to speak me

into existence

some people

stumble over them

like walking

on uneven ground

but they try

and trying

feels like love

in its most

basic form

others

refuse entirely

as if my pronouns

are too heavy

for their tongues

too foreign

for their familiar

patterns of speech

as if acknowledging

who i am

might somehow

diminish

who they are

but here's the thing

about pronouns

they're not just words

they're recognition

they're seeing

they're saying

yes

you exist

yes

you are who

you say you are

yes

your truth

matters

my best friend

never misses them

not once

in two years

of practice

and when she

talks about me

to strangers

i can hear

the pronoun

land

like a seed

in fertile ground

growing

into understanding

into acceptance

into normal

which is all

i ever wanted

to be

normal

to someone

somewhere

my therapist

catches herself

mid-sentence

backs up

tries again

gets it right

smiles

moves on

like it's nothing

like it's everything

like it's just

part of caring

for me

which it is

and my mother

still struggles

but she's learning

that love

sometimes sounds like

practicing

new words

until they feel

like second nature

until they roll

off her tongue

like prayers

she's been saying

all her life

when someone

gets them right

without trying

without that pause

where they choose

between seeing me

or seeing

who they think

i should be

my heart

remembers

its proper rhythm

strong

steady

unafraid

to take up

the space

between beats

where i live

completely

finally

authentically

they

them

theirs

three words

that taught me

the difference

between existing

and being alive

between breathing

and having

room

to breathe

this is me

in the space

between heartbeats

where my pronouns

have always lived

waiting

to be spoken

into the world

waiting

to be heard

waiting

to matter

they do

i do

we do