A This Is Me

‘When the sharpest words want to cut me down,

I’m going to send a flood, going to drown them out.

I am brave,

I am bruised,

I am who I’m meant to be.

This is me.’

-Keala Settle (This is Me)

                        Have you ever looked in the mirror with an air of diffidence, resisting the urge to circle every blemish or scar that lines your form in a circle of red ink?  The words that have been whispered behind your so called deaf ears ringing in the rather silent recesses of your mind, leaving behind a persistent murmur that echoes like a never ending loop. 

A reminder of your imperfections.

Those words uttered from narrowed lips leave scars that can’t be seen on the surface of your skin, but are sunk down in the very marrow of your bones. 

“Courage is being yourself every day in a world that tells you to be someone else,” he tells his class as they stare on attentively, catching onto his every word.

“Take me for example,” he continues,” I came out of the closet on the day I turned 21.”

Cover it up with a shade of beige makeup, they say.

            Cover it up with that velvet rimmed hat.

            Cover it up with an act that’s not true to who you actually are.

            But why cover it up, at all?

            Why cover up all those imperfections that make you, well, PERFECT.

            That make you identifiable.

            Your blemishes, mentality and personality are what make you a unique individual.

            Instead of covering it up, walk the streets with a confident air, with a smile lighting your face at who you are and not at who others want you to be.

‘One day, it won’t be called ‘coming out of the closet’ ‘, he thinks to himself as he fiddles with a piece of paper seated upon his ebony desktop.

‘One day it will just be called ‘falling in love’.’

“Why should gender come into the picture while holding the hand of the one you love while walking down the street?

Why should gender come into the picture while showing your affection towards another human being?

Why should gender come into the picture while having a relationship with someone who shares the same respect and admiration  for you as you have for them?”

His voice bounces off the classroom walls as he takes a breath staring at the eyes of his students, feeling as though he’s just stripped his heart bare and is lying there vulnerable with his feet planted on a tile floor which will open up underneath him at any given point of time.

‘There isn’t judgment there’, he realizes while gazing into all of those interested eyes,’ there is only acceptance.’

With a shallow breath he continues.

“If talent doesn’t have gender, then why should love?”

Those words that leave you standing in front of a broken pane of glass with fists that bleed crimson , wondering if it’s alright to be different, to think differently, act differently, speak differently, are the bullets that sink the deepest into flawless skin. 

            But, your skin isn’t flawless.

            It holds the effect of overwhelming emotions, riddling that unblemished canvas with the paint of an artist.

            The paint of an individual who creates their own beauty, finds their own destiny and shapes their own moments of ecstasy.

“The beauty of standing up for your rights is that seeing you stand, other people will start standing as well,” he speaks loud and clear with a bright glint in his eyes.

"At the end of the day shouldn't we all be treated as people with equal aspirations, dreams and rights?"

            I am strong even with my weaknesses.

Beautiful even with my blemishes.

Secure even with my insecurities.

Broken and bruised, yet, strong and passionate, all at the same time.

This is me.