Thursday, 11 June 2009

  • Autonomous

    Growing up, people saw me and always thought I'd be one of the first to be eliminated, right out of the chute. And I think when I was younger, I bought into the mythology, that if you were pretty you would be chosen. But somehow I defied all odds and have remained solidly on the wrong side of the line, one of the last to be picked for a team.

    Perhaps my problem is that I never made it a priority. That in my youth I blanched at the thought of leading a traditional life. That I never set any sort of parameters for myself.

    But now so many things have turned.

    There was a time when fear alone kept my feet firmly bolted to New York City. I was always afraid that if I left, I'd somehow be giving up irreplaceable opportunity. But now, I think I could leave. I think I could leave and it would be... OK.

    I've experienced bursts of a life where someone else is more important than myself, but never did I allow it to overtake my reality. I always returned to my space and I never thought twice-- believing that preserving my autonomy would ultimately lead to a coexistence where everyone was equally important.

    When I look at those times now I see how my current existence carries no more significance for me. I wonder now, have I been inadvertently resisting the meaning of love?

    I think I would be OK if I stopped being the top priority in my life.

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