I was born into a riddle without answer.
I was not groomed but gifted. Not trained but tested
I was born with a flaw in my flesh—
a quiet misalignment,
a body, out of phase with my soul.

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My mirror always lied.
Family photos captured a stranger where I should have been.
My childhood a monastic chant of silent begging:
“Please, make me normal.”
“Please, make it stop.”
“Please, fix me!”
Prayers eternally unanswered.

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You ask so much of me.
And I have given.

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Given You my beatings, my bruises, my blood, and my shame—
Through it all, I have begged You with tears, cursed You with rage.
And waited through endless silence for revelation.

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In Your ineffable grace, You chose me.
Forced me to be stronger, smarter, more enduring.
You placed this weight upon my shoulders—
a burden, wrapped in a curse.

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So, I will not complain.
I will not surrender.
I will not vanish to make others comfortable.

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You set me between two worlds.
So I will walk in two worlds,
speak in two tongues,
and bridge the gap in understanding.

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I will rescue the truths others tried to burn.
I will be a beacon for those lost in the fog.
My actions will be bold, my voice loud, my example worthy of respect.

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If this is the trial You set before me,
let it be my crucible.

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I will not just survive.
I will thrive.
I will carve space.
I will resurrect legacy and live loud enough to echo across time.

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And when I stand before You,
in whatever world comes next,
I will not ask why You made me this way.

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I only ask…