The poem is built around a paragraph the speaker's family might write about them, and the first thing you notice is the clumsy "S/He" and "him/her." The family can't even settle on a pronoun, which quietly proves the point the speaker is making. Their description is full of dismissals: making friends too easily is a quirk, mental health is "an excuse," and gender is something the speaker only "thinks" they are. The last line, "he/she's a bit better now," treats who the speaker is as an illness that is fading.
Then the poem turns to the speaker's own voice with a single question: "Am I, or did I learn to hide it from you better?" It's short and unsettling. The speaker doubts whether they've changed at all, or just gone quiet to avoid being judged. The mood is hurt and tired, with a tight, controlled anger underneath. Being seen so wrongly, and having to hide to be called "better," is the real weight here.