The Rest of the World

In a moment of clarity, suddenly it all made sense.

They mistook my tolerance for passiveness

And my sensitivity for weakness

And my good nature for femininity

In my attempt to become more assertive,

To become stronger, and defy patriarchy,

All I have become is less tolerant, less empathetic, and hard-natured-

All becoming less of the person I wanted to be.

The notion in my head telling me that to be individual, I must rebel against the world. But I know now that being nonconformist does not mean being separate from everything,

It means being yourself despite everything-

Knowing all along that no one will ever truly understand you for who you are, and yet choosing to be you anyways.

So in my struggle to become more individual,

I have become less like myself,

And more like the rest of the world.

 
This poem is about: 
Our world

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