Before I begin, let me just say, I wasn’t sure if this meant, “You,” or, “Me,” or whatever, so I kind of interpreted it to mean me, but also both. You’ll see what I mean.
I mean, I know my name, but a name isn’t everything. Or sometimes it is. But in my case, it’s not.
I am so much more than that.
I’m intense apparently.
Hard to handle (my mum’s words but not necessarily her opinion if you know what I mean).
Personally, if someone thinks I’m too hard to handle than they’re not someone I’d want to be with anyway. It reminds me of the words of the wonderfully beautiful feminist and speaker, Chimamanda Adichie who said, “The type of man who will be intimidated is exactly the type of man I have no interest in.”
I’m also an absolute contradiction sometimes.
So sometimes I am what you want, but not because I’m not being me; they just happen to be one and the same.
Sometimes I like to wear pants and sit like a man, thinking, talking and acting like a man.
Other times I like to be a lady… and a recent development: I want to wear a pretty girly dress with high, high heels and be taken on a date where the man pays.
It’s in these situation I have to ask: where has the feminist gone?
Oh, she’s still there.
I just lose track of myself and who I am sometimes.
I like to think of myself as a work in progress. Life adds a layer of paint, an embellishment here and there and then I get sick of it and start over.
SOMETIMES I LIKE TO BE LOUD AND USE CAPITAL LETTERS TO EXPRESS MYSELF.
Other times I like to be very quiet and hide in my room for days on end, only going out for food or when I desperately need to see something other than the four walls that have closed me in.
Yes, my choice.
Always my choice.
And so, that’s why today I decided to just be me and not necessarily the person you want me to be.
It’s too late to be anyone else.