Conformity is not a choice for a visionary. Excuse me while my stiletto scorches a path of destruction through convention, judgement, and fear as my reality is reconstructed.
I’m afraid I can be a bit of a tempest… I may make a mess but I am confident that I can afford it. For me, the cost of not living my dreams is spiritual death.
I defy conformity, it bores me. I am a visionary. I live in a delusional state of being where I accept without arrogance that we are extraordinary.
Growing up with anxiety and depression taught me a lot about myself. I had to learn that every shuddering breath that gasped out of me raggedly was my soul screaming inside for release.
I believe that all children are born confident until someone tells us to be someone other than who we were meant to be. I spent years trying to repress my identity because I was told to be little.
One moment, we are told that we are amazing and when we believe it, we are smothered immediately and told to “stop showing off, ” or “you need to tone it down.”
I was smothered by little people until I was terrified of speaking. I choked on my words until I learned how to be empty.
After years of repressing my identity and living off of wine and anti-anxiety drugs, I broke free from the fog of my manufactured identity.
I wanted to sing, so I sung loudly. I wanted to paint, so I painted wildly. I wanted to act, so I started auditioning again.
Extraordinary is a poem about being courageous enough to let yourself shine even when your flame burns too brightly for some people. We live in a society that tries to control everything through the limitations of labeling, including people.
The moment you believe that you are just “that thing,” you stop the process of manifestation with ideologies that create an avatar you call your personality.
Be whoever the hell you want to be…whenever you want to be…and when it stops working, become the next version of you. You have the right to evolve until you die. Never let another person tell you who you are.