I used to be afraid. As a child, I was told to be quiet, not to create any attention towards me, to be unseen. I was told that my job was to do well in school, and nothing else. Friends were discouraged. Boys? Absolutely not. I don’t remember being praised for anything other than doing exactly as expected, if I was lucky. And so, I was afraid to speak my Truth. Afraid to be my real Self.

Over time, something in me eroded away. I broke inside. Self-confidence was non-existent. One day, I began to *crave* change. Somehow, slowly, and painfully, I’m rebuilding. Some days are better than others. But one thing’s for sure—I’m not that girl anymore. 

I’m still unsure by default. I have to really actively focus on being the opposite of what I know so well. I question if my friends are really my friends, if I’m blogging just to babble or if I’m actually helping someone, if I failed my husband or kids in any way. But the thing is—it’s a choice. It’s a choice to accept the status quo, or make the change and acknowledge who you are meant to be. A choice to allow your own predetermined and biased construction of what another’s opinion might be affect your thoughts and actions. I didn’t say it was an easy choice. But a choice, nonetheless.