People talk about courage. What does it mean?
Is it a shattering of walls? Walls I told myself I’d always be safe in. I’m caught between who they told me I was and who I truly am. I am trying to make my way from one to the other.
Is that what courage is?
Is it telling your story without hanging your head in shame? How do you do that? How do you hold your head up high? I don’t know. Is it courageous to say you have so much behind you because you kept going? How is that possible when it feels like you are locked inside of an invisible prison?
My life is a mess of beauty and chaos and things I don’t understand. There are days when my heart storms, feeling like tidal waves will overwhelm me. The rough seas are within me and have taken me to places I did not want to go. It feels like the weight of everything is slowly crushing me. It’s so hard to continue with all of the pain and hurt and confusion that continues to envelope me.
Often what we don’t want to admit to people, because we think we’re letting someone down, is that we feel burdened by our lives. I feel less. I feel weak. I feel scared. In this word of many voices, it feels like my voice doesn’t matter. I don’t feel equal. I feel like I always have to fight to keep myself from drowning when just a minute ago I was afloat. I feel lost. I feel empty. I feel broken. I feel insignificant.
I’m tired of looking away. I’m so tired of shutting down. I kind of want to get to a place where I feel as though I need no explanation. I want to know from the bottom of my soul what it entirely is to be alive as me. I want to know that I’ve always mattered. That I will always matter. No matter what. Always.
I want to feel free and breathe free more than anything else in the world. I was born wild, raw, untampered and pure and there is that place somewhere deep inside still untouched by the craziness of this world. That is the place I seek with my every breath this day and age.
I need to find my wild. I need to find my freedom.