This post I now share, was originally a post on Wordpress. Actually a reply to conversation of kindred. Many have joined in. Check it out here. Join in, if you like.

This post resonated with me a lot tonight, even more at this time when I’m going through a phase. The problem you and Patrick put forth were very much mine, and unlike you both, they succeeded in putting me down. I tried to conform. I was told I read too many books and ignored my friends, so I read less. I was told I was too skinny, and I embarked on a dangerous and potentially harmful journey of weight gain. Unsuccessfully, I might add. Their words hit me, battered me, like a tiny fishing boat at sea in a storm. Their words lashed at me, many times threatening to sink me.
Luckily, I found myself. Or I am finding myself. Finding the path less trodden isn’t as easy as Frost made it seem, but I move still. And as the beam from my torch of Self shines on the path, I find that I must make my own way.
This is not to say I am without scars. My thoughts do not flow from me like they should. Like a balloon, my vent is too small, and I fear I might burst. I have trouble explaining myself. I still hold myself to the standards of others before me. I’d like to break free, but expectations weigh heavy on my shoulders. I am a 21st century Atlas, buckling under the weight, fearing I might falter and fall, marking my demise.
I refuse to be measured by accomplishments of my forbears. I choose to be my own measure. I choose happiness. I choose freedom. I unshackle myself from the conformism of this world, beating my chest and screaming my name to the high heavens.
Perhaps some day, I shall find my words.

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