I ask, almost as if I am picking out my clothes for the day.
I scan my closet and search the depths
of the messy clothing pit I call my room.
I try an outfit on and look in the mirror at the person staring back at me.
I brush my hair, fixing the brown/blonde strands in the perfect spot.
I move around a bit.
So this must be what it’s like to walk in my own shoes.
I’ll see what it’s like to live with the me
who I want to be.
How do other people react?
Am I comfortable?
How do I feel?
Do I feel free?
Or tight around the seams?
How do I seem?
Do I feel like me?
I go home and I take it all off
and start the process
I always think it’s funny
When people peer back at
How they’ve appeared
and their voices seeth with cringe as they exclaim,
“That is the ugliest shirt/hair/makeup/dress I have ever seen”
And I laugh with them,
but not for the reason that they think
I laugh because at one time,
the hair was perfect
so were the clothes
the makeup, the shoes, the accessories,
all perfect 5,10,15,20 years ago.
Every morning when we get out of bed,
we create the person that we want to be
We see the person that we want to see
(and who we want others to see, too)
Sometimes that person is messy
Sometimes that person is bold
Whatever you want to call it I guess.
See, we always think of ourselves as this fixed thing,
like there’s no use
changing our ways
We tell ourselves:
“I am who I am”
Or we ask:
“Who am I?”
But I don’t think there is an answer to that question that
so many struggle with.
because every second, minute, hour, day, year, lifetime
It’s never too late to
Which me am I going to be today?
I ask myself