EMANCIPATION: The Completion...

EMANCIPATION: THE COMPLETION OF MY METAMORPHOSIS

She hated the way his forehead furrowed as he examined the flimsy documents in his hands. Deep grooves like warrens, tracing, outlining the top of his temple. Deep and gashed, like they were done in a flurry of fury. Madly chasing each other, like there was no time to waste in this avid mission.
“Go through.” She looked up suddenly. Finally, the stamp and words of acceptance and approval! Why was it always such a challenge? No matter. She was finally through. To the next stage. She mumbled a gracious “thankyou” as she retrieved the precious documents, and moved through to the departure gates. It was only then it finally dawned on her where her journey was taking her. After many years she would be over the waters. Over the seas. Onto another physical land. But the emotional journey had begun much before the physical one.

The emotional journey. Much before.She hated the way his forehead furrowed as he examined the flimsy documents in his hands. Deep grooves like warrens, tracing, outlining the top of his temple. Deep and gashed, like they were done in a flurry of fury. Madly chasing each other, like there was no time to waste in this avid mission.
“Go through.” She looked up suddenly. Finally, the stamp and words of acceptance and approval! Why was it always such a challenge? No matter. She was finally through. To the next stage. She mumbled a gracious “thankyou” as she retrieved the precious documents, and moved through to the departure gates. It was only then it finally dawned on her where her journey was taking her. After many years she would be over the waters. Over the seas. Onto another physical land. But the emotional journey had begun much before the physical one.

The emotional journey. Much before.

Try as hard as she might her mind would not cease to wander. She looks to the left of her. To her right. All these people around her. Surrounded by people around her. So close, yet so very very far away. She might as well have been alone.

Try as hard as she might, she could not help it. In a moment she was out with the pen. And then began the thoughts. The thoughts she forever would scribble. Any which way she could. At any and every place she could. The thoughts that exemplified her emancipation, and explained this gradual metamorphosis…

“Emancipation- it is truly the only way for me to complete my metamorphosis. This is where it begins. And what is my metamorphosis? What do I mean by that? Is it to look back down on my empty shell, that dark and empty shroud that enclosed me, and feel so far away from it? That shell that trapped me. That choked me. That strangled me, for most of my life? It held my neck tight, and stopped my breath. It choked me and stopped me from breathing. From living. Yes, sometimes all I want to do is just that… breathe. Just breathe. In those times, I struggled to do even that.”

Sometimes I can stop. I do stop. And just breathe. Then everything seems to fly away, and in some strange and uncertain ways I’m free. Yes, it’s looking back down on that shell of myself that I didn’t want to be. The shell I never wanted to be. The shell that everyone thought I was. Looking down from a higher, stronger, clearer vantage point. All the things that held me back, I want to throw them away. Out. Finally, for once in my life, and for good, be free of them all. Yes, each and every one.

As impossible as it seems.

My past. All the imposed cultures, that have been trying to force themselves on to me. Do you know what it feels like to have no idea… Just no idea? To forever and continually feel like you don’t belong? To even try and imagine that that is the norm, and not even the exception, of your life?

To get rid of everyone that’s been telling me who I have to be. And what I have to do. Right down to the last dot on the ‘i’ and last cross on the ‘t’. The expectations of the people around me. So many of these people around me.

Push, pull, struggle and tear. Warring within. Warring without. Until one day, finally it rips. That ugly costume. Ugly mask. The ugly chains and weights fall off. The shackles break. I step out. Look out. Breathe. Relax. And realise. That for once. For real. I am ME. Not carrying all that baggage around, weighing me down. Holding me back. Preventing me. Keeping my dreams so far away. So out of reach. Realising that I am not what someone expects me to be. Not wearing what someone else expects me to wear. Not acting like someone else expects me to act. No, I’m not at all. But instead I’m ME. Just ME. And just FREE.

“But deep,
In my heart;
The answer,
It was in me.
And I made up my mind;
To define,
My own destiny.
My own,
Destiny”
- Lauryn Hill