I love you because you live all the way out loud.
 
I love you because you show the world there are more colors than black and white (colors we didn’t even know existed).
 

I love you because you are so damn beautiful—
not in the way the world defines beauty

(for the record though, you are beautiful that way, too),

but in the way truth becomes radiant when it finally has a body—
wider, deeper, more expansive than anything we were taught to imagine.
 
I love you because your courage and tenacity are a masterclass in becoming.

In choosing yourself.

In choosing life.

In refusing the lie that you were ever meant to be small.
 
I love you because you are living, breathing proof of God’s imagination.

Proof that creation is still unfolding.

Proof that holiness is not finished yet.
 
I love you because you show us a different world is possible—
a world where gender is a garden, not a cage.

A world where we get to name ourselves

and call it sacred.
 
I love you because you remind the world about joy.
The defiant kind.
The glitter-on-your-cheeks, laugh-too-loud, survive-anything kind.
The kind that says:
we are still here.
 
I love you because you sparkle and shine and refuse to shrink,

even when shrinking would be safer.

Even when the world gets sharp.

Even when being visible costs something.
 
I love you because your transness is not something you overcame—
it is something you are.

A song you refused to silence.

A truth that kept burning.
 
I love you because loving you has made me braver about loving myself.

Because your existence feels like a doorway.

Because knowing you makes the universe feel wider.
 
You are blazing the path
toward a steadier future.
And we get to love you
while the world is still catching up.