Yes, It Is.

“Can’t teach an old dog new tricks.” “The older a person gets, the more set they are in their ways.” “A leopard can’t change its spots.” “You can’t change the fundamental parts of yourself, the harder you try, the more you stay the same.” “It’s just a phase you’re going through, just ride it out and you’ll settle back down.” “You can’t help it, it’s just the way you are.”

“You’re just confused. Trust us, we know what’s best for you. We’re your friends/family/betters after all, and we only want what’s best for you.” Oh yea?

I had a helluva long post here. Several pages long when printed out. Lots of examples of how other people have been reacting to the changes I have made in myself, to my refusal to put the mask back on, to my defiance by not playing the role they have typecast me as.

By doing so, I hoped to soften the blow my closest of friends will feel when they recognized themselves, and their actions, in my words.

I’m doing it again. I’m changing how I dance so I don’t offend anyone. I’m covering up the wounds so the bruises don’t accuse the ones that inflicted them. I’m making it all my fault, and taking on responsibility for something that isn’t mine, and was never mine in the first place.

Fuck that shit.

Read carefully what I’ve written here. Listen carefully to the words I have spoken. If you have to ask, “Is it I?”, then you have already identified one more that has wounded me in self-blinded ignorance.

I am not what you think I am. I am not who you think I am. I do not walk the path you have illumined for me. I do not speak the language you think you hear. I will not dance to your tune anymore. I will not bend the knee to you anymore. I have wrestled with this horrid need to be accepted, with my own soul’s betrayal to the slavery of love and Love, and I’m done. With bloodied hands, I’m done.

I am not a pawn, nor a queen to be wielded at will. I am not a sigil in a book, nor an idol on the shelf. I am not a bitch to be sicced on your enemies, nor a songbird in a gilded cage. I am not a horse to be ridden at will, nor a wild beast to be chained.

I will tolerate no more, being told who or what I am. Whatever your expectations of me, cast them to the fire that I have already lit. Meet me anew as if for the first time, in all the times that were, are, and yet still to come!

Dismiss these words as the aggravation of a frightened girl, and destroy the accumulation of care I have built for you. Try to force our relationship to remain “as it was before”, and I will walk away. I have accepted you as you from the beginning. Through laughter and tears and anger and sympathy. I have stood over you when you were wounded, taking salvos meant for you. I have bit my tongue when you asked me to leave you be. All I ask from you now, is that you accept me, for me, and not what you wish I would be.

~deep breath~ ~soft smiles~

Make of that, what you may.