On this cold day, I feel alive. Walking alone, watching clouds of breath all around me, trying to control my own. I feel alive, but I still hold this fear, like this tiny tiny ball of insecurities and second guesses and comparisons and what if’s, and when I get close to courageousness the twine of fear unravels in whispers that sound like alarms in my head, you’re not good enough, you’re not enough, don’t try, don’t speak, don’t smile, look down, stay this way, you’re not enough.
And so maybe this fear holds me back from realizing what I truly want, what I should be working toward, who I want to be.
But on this cold day that I feel alive, I breathe in hope drawn from the wind. The cup of hot chocolate I hold burns my hands, but at least they are not numb in the icy air. And with each breath, and with each sip, cold and hot, with each thought slowly waltzing through my head, the tiny ball of fear grows smaller, because there is something more after all.
There are many ropes that constrain me here, but there are more reasons to look up than to look down. There are more reasons to smile than to frown. There are more reasons to speak than to remain silenced. It is harder to be brave, but it shouldn’t be.
There will be a day that I feel enough. That I will feel good enough to get what I want out of life, no matter the ghosts of my past that made me afraid.
So I’m leaving November with more courage than when I started.
Because three submissions later, I am not ashamed.
(mixtapings)
