From where I stand

09 August 2011 06:24 AM Categories: Writing prompts

While things shift inside of me, while the metamorphosis happens, let me tell you about fantasies of other lives, of the walk along cool city streets in the dark, my hair in a crew cut, my hand in hers or his or theirs, the slight sway of hips not about sex or the slow roll of outward attraction but full of ourselves, of love, full of who we are. I dream of standing up in class and saying what I really think, of hanging up the phone on those who trespass against me – not angry, but assured, feeling comfortable enough in who I am to tell the truth about it.

I have lived off the bravery of other people, have let my opinions lie in an unopened room, have held myself back out of fear of rejection. I’ve simpered and smiled and played the little girl, I’ve put my freak flag in the back of the bottom drawer,

So the fantasies are of escape, of a woman driving the getaway car through streets of flame, full of power, full of dark arts leavened by joy and confidence. They give me just enough life to not pursue life, and there are too many steps to get there anyway, and there’s the risk, the risk …

And meanwhile, things rearrange themselves. I can say what I want to say – outside of saying things that cause pain – and if what I say brings on rejection or challenge, I can stand up to it. I can have opinions and I can speak my mind. You don’t really know me, none of you have met me in real life (or only a select few have), but can I tell you how amazing this is? Years of fear of being crushed if I reveal myself? Decades of quietness, because to not express myself in one way means that I am paralyzed, that the words don’t come, or if they do come, they are mumbled, mangled, easily abandoned?

This is all new, you know, and requires practice and constant reminders that I am ok, I’m good, I’m good, that I need a place to stand, that I have a place to stand, and I can offer up what I think because what I think has merit, it has grounding. And in the process, I accept what you have to say, too, knowing that it doesn’t threaten my small self, that I don’t need to crush it. I am large. I contain multitudes.

So ineloquent. Or not enough. But within me I can’t contain my excitement, the unrest, the feeling that I am about to step outside, that I am preparing myself for any weather, for the rebirth, for the light dance in the rain and the sprint against thunder, for the stroll by the riverbank in the heady air of springtime and the decay of fall, my feet crunching on gravel or fluffing up the dirt, crackling the fallen leaves. In the winter the snow silences my step, but I can see my breath. I can feel the life within me, reaching out for you.

From the prompt "An escape."

I'm posting every messy Round Robin prompt, a prompt a day until the RR ends. Unless I tell you otherwise, this is the original 12-minute prompt edited only for clarity and typos.

Image: My mother's shoes, my shoes, taken by me.

Tags: writing prompt, A prompt a day until the Round Robin goes away, Round Robin, speaking up, escape

blog comments powered by Disqus

blog »