Tonight, I free myself.
I’ve never known life by the halves. My curiosity would make me go too far, my boldness would make me go too fast. Intense soul I am. I have a microscopic lens, and a telescopic vision. I see too far and too closely for my own good. For years and year I tried to sit still in the crammed space of expectations and norms. Lord knows how much I tried to fit in.
Suffocated and bruised, I decided this was no way to live.
I’m often caught in between my empathy and my eccentricity: the latter often putting me at odds with people who are taken aback by the weirdness of it all. My reading someone’s thoughts and feelings to them, or calling them out on something, or asking weird questions at 4 am like ‘ if you had to choose between cutting off your thumb or eating your faeces, what would you do?‘
So without knowing, I find myself dialling back, tuning out, mincing my words, figdeting, squirming in my seat. Before I know it, I feel a knot in my throat, my jaws clenched, my breathing shallow. I can’t write or BE me because I get lost in a flurry of self-doubt and what-ifs and overthinking. Whatever I do or say comes out lifeless and stripped of authenticity.
So.*inhale deeply* tonight I give myself official permission to be as vulgar and unstable and pissed off and funny and sad and rude as my truth at any given moment demands of me. That just as I don’t shy away from standing for what I believe in, or risking my all for love, or going into the darkness of the unknown — so will I not shy away from being as authentic as I genuinely think or feel in the moment.
Because in between the hiccups and hisses lie the rare moments that I would never be able to foresee, and that would be etched on my dying mind as my best. And I really don’t want to miss out on those because I was afraid that someone behind a screen somewhere would think something of me.