I could be on the precipice of something huge. I could.
I see it on the other side of the frosted glass. I can make out the shape, yet can’t discern any of the details...but my God, can I feel it. And it feels like joy. Not happiness, which is fleeting, but pure unadulterated joy. It feels like what I’ve been searching for, but frustratingly have been unable to sufficiently name. Why can’t I make out more than just the silhouette so I can at least know what to look for, where to start? It feels like some kind of sick joke, unfair and cruel. So close and yet so far. I keep staring and the shape keeps shifting, moving as I move. I’m left guessing.
I’ve taken the path of least resistance for my entire life, motivated by taking up the least amount of space and attention, born from an aversion to being really seen and a perfectionist’s fear of failure. I’m palatable, I’m agreeable, I’m what I’m supposed to be. I’m a chameleon, with a waning sense of self, who deals in amalgams of personality traits and mirrored social cues. But I need to find what’s under all these layers. What’s at the core of me.Read More