You don’t need permission to be who you are.
I don’t need permission to be who I am.
I wait for the world to point out, accept or validate my value. I wait for someone’s laugh to acknowledge my humor. I wait for numbers to show my worth: likes/weight/money. I wait for a publisher to tell me I am a writer. I wait for the world to acknowledge my existence. I wait. I wait. I wait. But from somewhere I hear an echo. It’s there. I hear it as a whisper. No. Not a whisper. It is there and strong. Am I silencing it? Am I shutting it out? Wait…. No! I will not wait. I cannot shut it out! That sound? That echo? It is not coming at me. It is not out there. Damnit! Listen! Listen….. Me. It’s me. Quieting my own. Quieting my roar. Quieting me. Listen. Me. Listen, to me.