I remember the day I came into my own. I don’t mean the day I hit puberty or the first time I decided to stay out late and test my curfew. I’m referring to the day I realized who I was aside from what society tried to label me. This was not the infamous “aha” moment but more of years of soul searching for the true meaning of ‘me.’
Year after year, I laid a foundation that could be pieced together as the puzzle became clearer. Now, don’t get me wrong, my puzzle is still undone. However, I can see the visual and being able to see it helps me to focus on what I want for myself.
There’s something about knowing who you are. It’s refreshing like a cool breeze and a glass of iced tea on a hot Summer day. It allows me to take risks and be creative with my life. I don’t worry about the “what ifs” I just live.