I wonder… what if everything that weighs me down, simply vanished? What if some divine hand reached down, plucking away every little thing that holds me back, carefully picking it with two fingers and flicking it into the void never to return, never to haunt me again?
I’d take off like a rocket, finally living as I was meant to. No inhibitions, no slaps on the wrist, no biting my tongue for fear of saying the wrong thing. No burning cheeks when I feel exposed. No clipped wings.
Just me, the unfiltered, untrained version of me. The one who doesn’t feel like she’s missing something, like she doesn’t belong. The one brimming with dreams, strength, and courage. The one who doesn’t hide out of fear, who stands tall and shows the world who she is.
The one who has something to give, who makes the world a little better, starting from her tiny corner and reaching all the way to the edges of the earth.
What if someone could just free me from everything that chains me down? Or what if I had some kind of alarm blaring whenever I compromised myself, when I took on too much, when I carried burdens that weren’t mine, when I stayed too long in a place that was breaking me?
How would that feel?
But, no. Instead…
Every time I felt something was crumbling, instead of letting go, I clung even tighter. I poured every ounce of my energy, my strength, my very essence into making that broken thing work again. I put everything else on hold just to fix what was beyond fixing, to breathe life into something that had already died, to find a way, any way, to make it fit.
I wasted years gripping onto things with my hands, my feet, my teeth, my everything, until there was nothing left of me. I fought until I was drained.
I wrapped my entire life around things that weren’t meant for me, holding on until my very joints gave out. Like someone dangling over the edge of a cliff, hanging on by their fingertips.
I had slipped that far.
I knew if I let go, I’d fall. I’d be lost. But hanging on with bruised, bloodied hands wasn’t an option anymore.
And so, terrified, I unclenched my grip.
I fell.
I fell into nothingness. Heart pounding. Freefall. Swallowed by the black unknown. I couldn’t see anything good, nor bad, nor beauty, nor destruction. Just fear. Just the sensation of losing everything.
But then… something happened.
Somewhere in that abyss, in that terrifying descent, wings began to grow.
And instead of crashing, I rose, battered, bruised, but alive.
And with new strength, I started over.