Walk the line, they say.

And step well, tread lightly, march

obediently to our drums.

Keep still underneath our square, manicured thumbs.

I listened for a while, at first, to start,

but it numbed my heart, no surprise there,

white washed and dolled up.

Just stuffed with stuff and then stuffed with even more stuff.

A hunched over, self deprecating bundle of social psychology.

JKLOL!, they laughed.

Tough.

It was that day - that’s when I knew,

The only person in this universe I was meant to be was me.

Well, duh.

Like, clearly.

But throughout the growth and the insecurities and the

comical mess,

like deciding which tacky earrings to wear with my homecoming dress,

I searched and uncovered myself as

kind of a jewel.

I’m sort of awesome.

Hell, I’d even go so far as to say I’m cool.

Dare I say it, speak it aloud?

Could it really be true?

I lean closer and whisper:

Is my quirky personality actually endearing to you?

So when approached with,

“That was super awkward. Is the struggle real? I can only imagine how you must feel.”

I don’t have to wonder about the proper aspects to conceal

Or worry about being pigeonholed into mediocrity

as some professional’s ditsy wife.

I’ll grin and grab tight to my future,

look you in the eyes,

nod and reply

“Yep, that’s my life.”