Sometimes, you become too heavy…
The weight of my reality,
The scars of my childhood,
And the harsh lessons that come
With losing someone you love…
They all become too much to bear, to conceal.

Every morning, as I reluctantly make up my bed
And fluff my tear-soaked pillow,
I wonder if this is the day…
I stand before the mirror and look deep within.
I’m broken, perhaps beyond repair,
But I force myself to smile.

The facade fades quickly.
The tears well up.
I tilt my head back,
Desperately trying to compose myself.
I fail.

I’m afraid.
I’m afraid to walk out without you.
But what I realise now,
Which I didn’t quite understand then,
Is that you do not protect me,
But imprison me.

For far too long I laughed
So as to not make others uncomfortable.
I chased shifting goalposts and tried
To meet mounting expectations.
I bent over backwards to the point of being crippled.
I diluted my truth because I was told that it offended others.
No more.

Today I walk out that door as me.
No mask.
No pretense.
Just me, and slow determined steps
Towards embracing my authentic self.
Freedom awaits.