Performance and I knew each other well.
We wore each other. Supported each other. A perfect pair, always moving to the rhythm of inauthenticity.
I showed up to perfect. I showed up for the gospel and the church.
I showed up to be the strong friend. I showed up in the language of “I got it,” “I’m good,” and “Don’t worry about me.” I showed up and performance carried the rest, the two of us tangoing into the arms of high-functioning anxiety and depression.
Now—I’m showing up for me.
And that’s coming with freedoms I never knew were mine to own.
So I’m playing. I’m experimenting. I’m unlearning. I’m adapting. And the kid inside of me finally gets to pilot this adult armor—and goddamnit is he having a ball.
Here’s to me. Here’s to you. Here’s to our future selves that will honor all aspects of our humanity we were denied and now have the audacity to reclaim.
Let the people of the church say amen. ✨
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