I’ve read the pages of your story. I’ve studied the words, the inflections, the pauses and silences. I’ve made my life a study of yours. I’ve poured myself into a mold I thought would please you. And I find I no longer fit. I swell and spill over the edge. I’m surprised to find I cannot be contained. I’m surprised to find I don’t want to be. Not anymore.
A lifetime of making myself small, seeking approval, conforming to other people’s standards wars against me. Fear of the unknown, fear of losing those I love, fear of disapproval threatens to overtake me. But I’ve made a commitment to myself. I will see myself. I will see and learn to love the woman God has created me to be.
I move, one tentative step after another, toward freedom.