you obsess over your identity while your soul rots inside you
At 16, I would have been too ashamed to confess the things I long for now. Back then, you wouldn’t catch me dead saying how much I love my quiet hometown—the way I dream of returning one day, how I yearn to be a mother, a loving wife. And no, it doesn’t mean I live to please men—I know that now. I want to be the kind of friend who remembers your words, who leaves a pair of gloves on your doorstep because you admired mine. It’s funny… I used to dream of roaming the world, but now all I crave is a life close to home, where I can wander on weekends and find peace in a cozy corner of the world I call my own. I want to be famous in some way—whether it be for my art or personal brand, but I convinced myself it was vain so I didn’t allow myself to put my full effort in towards that goal. I wish I would have let myself fully embrace my wants.
These aren’t shameful desires, but I never would’ve admitted them—they didn’t match the mask I wore for everyone else. Isn’t it funny, how we try so hard to fit in that we lose sight of the joy in simply standing out? I was always a little strange, but I loved it. What can I say? Weirdness felt like freedom, like a secret only I knew. But in school, they called me names. "Weird," they said, until I started to believe it was something ugly. So I buried that side of me, the part that danced to its own song, and traded it for a borrowed identity. Over time, my colors faded, my voice grew quiet, and I began denying myself the things I truly wanted.
Now, at 20, I’m standing at the crossroads, trying to make sense of my soul’s whispers, trying to become who I want to be, while holding on to the pieces of me I abandoned. I stumbled upon a quote: “You obsess over your identity while your soul rots inside you.” It was like a shout in the dark, and suddenly, I could feel my soul again—buried deep but still alive, aching to be heard.
To become who I’m meant to be, I have to unravel the threads of identity I tied so tightly around myself. I need to listen to the soft murmurs of my soul again. In other words, I need to let go of my ego, and remember what it feels like to live unafraid, to embrace all the weird and wonderful things that make me, me.
Love Forever,
Roxanne