I used to numb myself into submission. Conditioned, waiting to be told what to do, how to think. Didn’t want to act different, look different, or draw attention to my desire to escape. Not sure where to go, but wanting to run, start over. I wanted to unfold, be naked, without needing sex or drugs or validation to carry me. High on life? Ha! I laughed at the thought but only to disguise my intrigue. Could there really be such a thing?
I had to go my own way. Find my own release. I had been smothering myself with his logic, her expectations, the constant boom of opinion, drowning out my instincts. Comparing myself, always feeling ugly and incorrect, afraid to take off my mask. The constant demands, the news, the church, the definitions, the rat race, the traffic, the lost souls, the busy-ness, the jealousy, the competition, the confusion – all these distractions, making it hard to breathe. Impossible to hear myself.
I had enough. I had to shut everyone up. I cared too much what they thought, so I had to be alone, so I could focus and decide for myself.
What do I want?
I dropped everything to explore my questions, to follow my own good feelings and learn to trust them. I learned to arouse myself, spiritually, emotionally and creatively. I started paying attention. Every time I overcame some quandary, sorted out some inner conflict, I felt more beautiful and aware of myself. The tension of shedding my skin replaced the tension of chasing people and situations that were not meant for me.
Solitude has become the portal to my highest potential, my most fulfilling life. I don’t like to be interrupted. And I can’t be worried about how everyone feels about it. I need to be here, right where I am, doing things my way. Finally.
So this is where you find me. Still in a brand new relationship with myself, not ready for company. I cannot trust myself with your charms. I am easily influenced, and you are a threat. You want to touch, I want to write. You want me to listen to you, to listen to us together, but I only want to listen to myself. You pull me away from my work, the precious work that calls to me, louder and bolder than you. The work of loving myself and sharing that love creatively. Making up for lost time. Serving a purpose. That’s what keeps me up at night, not you.
So please fall back. Let me become.