as a girl i fear.
as a woman i doubt.
and i wonder if these are hallmarks of my sex?
i am insecure. i second-guess. i worry and wonder and spin tall-tales, fabricate nonsense, pull from from thin-air. i make myself small, diminish my own worth and power. i relive memory after memory until they are worn dull from overuse, from being taken out too often, exposed to the air and error of misremembering.
and then i think that perhaps what makes me a woman is the co-existance of all these things with a deep-seated sense of how i could, given the chance, transform the world--so potent and reaching is my strength.
i've been worrying a lot lately. so much so that at times i can feel my chest closing in on itself--constricting breath, creating a needle of pain.
and then a few nights back, from that deep place of sleep, i had a dream in which i lived through the very thing i'd obsessed about and mulled over and doubted might ever be. and before i knew it was just a dream, while it was happening, i stepped out of myself and spoke. the deepest, fullest, truest part of me--the bit closest to divinity, spoke:
enough. it said. enough of this nonsense. the next time you begin to worry. the next time doubt creeps in you must remember this moment, this moment right now. you must look at what's happening before you--to you as evidence. that's what you want, right? tangible evidence? well, there it is. that is my gift to you. so stop. enough. be better.
and then i woke. transformed. knowing the very deepest part of me trusts in my worth--in my right to desire and the pursuit of such.
so, enough, then. be better.