My eyelids feel puffy
and I know I look tired.
In this space we’ve gathered to write.
Mel will start some music.
Find a beat.
Tap your toe.
The days I feel I cannot work
or I will surely die
I put on some music.
I seek a joy from somewhere deep inside.
I dance in my chair.
Dancing. It’s something I’ve never done.
I’ve never taken a class.
I’ve never wanted to go clubbing,
shake my groove thang
for others to see
and judge.
But this year is about experiencing,
exploring,
expressing.
It is the year of EXP.
It is the year of accepting
who I am
how I feel
how my body moves.
It is the year of trusting
how I express.
And, goddamn it,
getting over the fear of what
others will think.
Because I can’t control what
other people think,
even if I’m very good at manipulation.
I’m tired of manipulating.
And so what?
So what if someone doesn’t like me?
I no longer rely on donations based on
my merits or my fitting-in-ness
or my regular attendance
of a church service that
I actually think I hate.
So it is the year of becoming comfortable
with who I am and my opinions.
Saying, “Yuk! I can’t stand this song!”
if I can’t.
Or, “This one’s delicious to my ears!”
but only if it is.
It is a year of trusting my gut
of feeling my way
if that means groping my way through
the trees
or fingering the Braille signs
of yes and no
inside me
when my eyes are closed.
Because I think I’ll find true acceptance
— appreciation even.
Not the kind that lets you hang
around because you’re inoffensive enough.
Because I’ve spent my life being what
people need — or what I think they need —
in order to secure my place in their life,
in an irreplaceable role
a necessary piece
a cog in their machine.
But what I’m realizing is that when
the world can go on without me
I’m a lot more free to do something new.
When my friends have figured
out how to hang out
without me orchestrating it
I wasn’t jealous.
I was relieved.
All this time I thought I wanted
to be needed.
I don’t want to be needed.
Needed means trapped.
It means a false sense of importance.
What I want
is to be wanted.
One response to “It’s like you’ve sunk down and landed on your soul”
I LOVE this