Sometimes, I wonder who I am. Who am I supposed to be. I look at myself in the mirror and have no idea who I see staring back at me.
I know my purpose. I know my voice. And yet, there is a stranger living my life, ignoring what I am here to do, and wasting the days doing what society says is required to be a decent human being.
How do I evict her from this body? From this life?
I am frustrated by her lack of passion and disdain for the truth. I am pissed at her numbness keeping me from feeling it all - from living in my heart and loving so deeply it aches.
I don't want to hear what she has to say. I don't care if she is trying to protect me. Protect me from what? My own fucking life?
And yet, the stranger wins. Every day I stay quiet. Every time I play small. Every choice I make from my head instead of my heart.
I am a writer that doesn't write.
An empath that doesn't feel.
An activist that doesn't speak out.
And yet, the me inside of me is still there. Waiting, patiently, for the stranger to calm down and shut up.
But my patience is wearing thin.
What if what I need to say needs to be heard, right now?
What if what I need to teach needs to be learned, right now?
What if what I need to disrupt needs to be shifted , right now?
Can I wait for this stranger within to get tired of hiding? Can I wait for her to find her courage, to overcome her fear?
Or do I need to grab her by the arm, say "Thanks, love, but I've got this," and gently as her to step aside?
The me, the real me, waiting to be seen and hear, she may be strange, and she may feel like a stranger to others (and sometimes even myself), but she will not wait one more day to stand in her power and own her voice.
Not one more day.