I am human.
I have a tail.
I've been told only about 2% of humans have a tail.
I think it's hard to tell exactly, most do a great job at hiding the fact they have a tail.
I was not so lucky.
When I was in high school, I told a friend that I had a tail.
Almost immediately, I was taunted by my school-mates.
"He has a tail! Tail boy! Tail boy! Get outa my way freakazoid!"
From that point on, I was unable to escape the torment.
I did not understand. I was born with a tail. It wasn't my fault.
I asked God on many occasions, why.
Why did he give me a tail??
God did not answer.
This made me sad.
I went to a priest for 'confession'.
He said that as long as I didn't use my tail, God was fine with it.
But I did use my tail.
Lots and lots of times.
When I would get close to other humans,
I secretly hoped they had a tail.
Nope. Some were gay, some were straight, but not one had a tail.
They were shocked when they saw it.
This immediately stopped the encounter.
They wouldn't speak to me anymore.
Just mocked, "Tail boy! Tail boy! Tail boy!"
I would go back to the priest over and over.
Each time I would tell the Father,
"Bless me father, for I have sinned."
I have used my tail.
The priest asked me where I used my tail.
I told him I like to hang from the tree branches by it.
It gave me a new perspective on the world.
Father told me that I mustn’t use my tail.
He told me, God wouldn't like me if I used my tail.
I was scared. I didn't want to have God be mad at me.
I was confused. Did not God make me?
Is he not the one who gave me the tail?
I was born with a tail after all.
"God hates me! God hates me!" This was all I could think about
I was so sad.
I tried to cut my tail off.
But I couldn't. All I could do was make a cut in it.
I went to school.
"Don't talk to him!", they said.
"He has a tail!"
"He's gross! He makes us want to upchuck!"
I had no friends.
No one was like me.
No one had a tail.
I was alone.
I decided that getting rid of my tail was not enough.
I decided to end my life.
End my suffering.
"It's not my fault I have a tail."
I was taken to the hospital.
This was one of many times I ended up there.
Always the same reason though.
Over and over this was repeated.
they put me in a special hospital.
They took away my laces.
They talked to me. Over and over.
"Why would you try to kill yourself, What could be so bad?"
I told them I had a tail.
They said, "It's alright that you have a tail."
I said, "God hates me because I use my tail."
They said, "God doesn't hate you for using your tail. He made you and made the tail."
A few days later I was out of hospital.
I had a new lease on life.
Someone on the street, (an acquaintance), pointed and shouted
"He has a tail! Tail boy! Tail boy!"
I rushed into a store.
When it was safe, I went to the park.
I went to the park to hang around and use my tail.
I pulled myself high into the trees.
Where no one could see or shame me.
It's so glorious up there.
Being who I was supposed to be.
Just a human with a tail.
I decided not to try to get rid of my tail anymore.
I became proud of my tail.
I was a rare gem within the human race.
Only 2% of all humans have a tail.
That means 98% of them won't feel the joy having a tail brings.
And you know what?
I found many more of the 2% of all humans that had a tail.
I have been in a relationship with one of them for 14 years.
We hang upside down in the trees
We look at all those poor folks out there.
Those with hate.
Those who think we shouldn't exist at all.
Well, they are so wrong.
People with tails are people first.
They feel pain
They eat, drink, and yes, on occasion be merry.
They drive cars.
They go to work every day.
I think its amazing that a group of humans as small as 2%
can make the other 98% feel threatened by us with tails.
Maybe. Just maybe they are hiding a tail. Or something else.
I do not know. But I am proud to have and to use my tail.