The Two Definitions of Submission
In January I had submitted.
A version of myself to people who had never met me. I tried to be the person they wanted me to be, and in the end, I became the person they never wanted.
In February I began my out-of-body experience, and never returned.
I no longer knew who I was, I only knew who I was supposed to be.
In March I tried to be happy.
In April I wasn’t.
In May, I was rejected. A version of me had died.
Rejected. They
Rejected. Saw
Rejected. Through
Rejected. The
Rejected. Person
Rejected. That
Rejected. Never
Rejected. Existed
Accepted. Luckily.
In June, I had to watch my parents be proud of me, while the world laughed at me.
In July I tried to be happy again. I wrote letters to the ocean, to the stars, to the earth.
I never got a reply.
In August, a part of me came back, while another part of me had to leave.
In September, I realized that I wasn’t myself. I found pieces of myself strewn across a campus I barely knew.
In October, I lost someone. I wrote letters to her.
I called to her,asking why she left her whole family behind.
I never got a reply.
In November, I wrote myself back into the blank pages of a journal that was once full.
I wrote and wrote and wrote and realized who I was is not who I am.
In December, I left the place that helped me become a person, and planned to go to a place that saw through me, hoping that maybe they’ll see I’m real this time.
But I had found myself.
And that was all I needed to move on.
In January I submitted a version of myself to people who had never met me. I am the person I want to be, and it doesn’t matter if I’m not the person they wanted .