For almost 40 years I have existed.
True to the ideals and standards that society, circumstance and family impose on us.
Forever striving for an unrealistic version of my best self.
For almost 40 years I have struggled and tried and cried and chafed against the restrictions I have put on my own self.
For almost 40 years I have not quite fully embraced my own path.
I have never found the way to my heart, my hope, my love and my joy, unequalled and without judgment, settling and doubt.
For many, I have come a long way. They see this version of me that is completely foreign to the version of me that they used to know.
For some, those who have circled my orbit for longer, is this version of me any different to the one they have always known?
Does it matter?
Or have I finally come to realize that I can be the version of me that I chose? That I decide? That I like? That I embrace? That I have found, after 40 years of struggling to be me?
The one me that loves so completely that any creature is welcome?
The one me that is loyal and true and kind and generous?
The one me that finds joy in the art of a lost art?
The one me that draws her perfection on her body?
The one me that finds faith in her version of a God?
The one me that is actually pretty damn fine?
We all have a need to be accepted and loved.
For too long I have not accepted and loved myself.
So I shall stand before this metaphorical mirror and look at my emergent self.
But now I am. And I am so much more than you thought I could be. Than I thought I could be.
I am true.
I am bold.
I have a feeling it’s gonna be epic.