She walked on stage to cheers and claps. She was tall and beautiful, all in black. Black pants and a black sleeveless top. A black bra peeked out from under her arms. She strutted to the microphone with her guitar and said hello to everyone. Her smile was infectious and inspiring. The light shone over the tattoos that covered her arms, her signature all black arm faced me. She was the most exquisite thing I had ever seen. She was everything I hoped I would see. She was everything I wanted to be, the woman I wanted to emulate. She was the person who gave me the confidence to even be in her presence to begin with. Her fingers strummed the first song, I sang along in utter shock and awe. Tears ran down my face, ruining the makeup I painstakingly applied hours before but I didn’t care, it didn’t matter to me. I was in her company and was happier than I had ever been. She was my hero. She was my musical idol. She was my transgender goddess. Her name was Laura Jane Grace and she was just like me.
kerriandrewsstories.wordpress.com 