He had a big sister. Through his eyes, she was a most beautiful ballerina. He didn’t want to play football; he wanted to dance with his big sister. Ballet is for girls, they said, he could see as well. No boys allowed. So he kept that to himself. Like many of his thoughts, he never seemed to be like anybody else. The outside world was too trivial. He tried hard to be like everyone else. Like everyone, he wore blue, like everyone he played tough. The slightest attempt to be himself was a disaster. Either with laughers or reprimands, the outside world felt boring and unimportant; the world inside was louder. The world inside was brighter. He could dance as much as he wants and no one would judge him. He wasn’t different because he was himself. Inside there was no difference between what a man can do or what a woman can be. They were different, but they lived as they wished. People could love who they wanted without the fear of being transgressors. They just love each other with no labels; how beautiful that is. They could pray to god, to God, to Allah, to Buddha. Maybe they decided to not pray at all. There was no reason to force beliefs and behaviors. The inside world wasn’t real. It was just a dream. In fact, he searched for that place in many places. But no matter where he was and what he did, the outside world kept showing him people was just what they were told to be, not as they were. As people grew older, they ended up forgetting whom they are. He didn’t want to be part of that anymore. He escaped, but there were nowhere to hide. He did try to live in both worlds, but the outside was the one he needed to be. He couldn’t just be living comfortable inside his mind. He had to face his difference, his desires. He had to be himself not someone else.