I am Not YOUR Vision

Words Imprint

The way he spoke to her left me wondering why she would tolerate such DISRESPECT.

He laid his hands on her and threatened her children and she did NOTHING. 

Sometimes they would fight. I don’t remember what about.

She did raise her voice back, but only in defense and to disagree.

She was intolerant, dismissive, disrespectful, spiteful and mean.

She spent MY life with her nose buried in a book, hiding behind words that don’t even matter TO HER.

I spent MY life LIVING, FEELING words, hearing them, seeing them, with NO understanding, but FASCINATED, conscious and AWARE of what words mean, putting words to meanings.

Connecting, collecting FEELINGS, justifying MY existence.

Why do I exist?

She’s waiting for the end, fighting a life she does not want.

I’m done waiting for ANYTHING. I’m done FIGHTING for a life that I DO want.

I SWORE I would not become HER.

He had an image of what he wanted HIS daughter to BE.

He named HIS daughter to be who HE wanted.

A name that means, depending on who you ask, is an animal that lives free but taken care of by their “pack”, by the connections they make. Whether a gazelle or a mountain goat, both have been called the translation of the name Yael. Or the latest, the one I like most. Apparently, the biblical meaning is, “Strength of God”. What an honor. I’ll take it.

But on MY terms! Not HIS.

He CONTROLLED his family with a hard hand, inciting FEAR to control.

He was a dreamer, but nobody knew it. He wanted BETTER.

Better for himself. Better for his children, for his family.

The world loved him, unless they KNEW him personally.

He was a different person in public than he was in private.

The world knew him as friendly, often jolly, resourceful, making DO with what he HAS.

Father of 3, with children whose discipline was under control (mostly).

Until his oldest, ME, decided SHE wouldn’t have it.

She wanted her own CONTROL.

I wanted MY own control, over who I am, who I become.

I am not YOUR vision. I am NOT who YOU think I am.

YOU don’t get to decide who I am, who I BECOME, what I DO, what I SAY, or how the world sees and/or hears me.

You don’t get to decide who or what matters, what’s important or not, what resonates and what doesn’t, how people, or I FEEL about me, or whether or not I MATTER.

I told my brother that, when I went back to him, I would not be surprised if I died.

I didn’t think I would REACH my last birthday. I did. I’m still here.

But something is DIFFERENT.

I am not who I thought I was.

I am THESE words. The written words feel like MY life.

The life I’m living today FEELS outside of myself.

I’m watching MY life. FEELING what I now understand. WHY.

Why EVERYTHING is. Why anything is important and what matters.

Why words can FEEL not the same as they’re SAID.

He CONTROLLED his family with a hard hand, inciting FEAR to control.

I EXPLORE the unknown and the misunderstood.

I feel like I'm traveling through time.

Exploring who I was and who I became.

Exploring a whole world, to which I FEEL a connection.

But nobody knows who I am.

I am a dreamer, but nobody knows it. i want BETTER.

Better for myself. Better for my children, for my family.

The world loves me, until they KNOW me personally.

I matter to who matters.

Apparently, I’m a different person in public than I am in private.

The world knows me as friendly, often jolly, resourceful, making DO with what I HAVE.

Mother of 2, with children who LOVE her, WITHOUT needing control.

KNOWING I'm loved by who matters to me.

Until something happened to me or FOR me.

I'm still exploring which it is.

Hence, THIS conversation.

I wanted MY own control, over who I am, who I become.

I am not YOUR vision. I am NOT who YOU think I am.

I am not to you who the world thinks I am.

You may not be to me who you think you are.

I am not TO YOU who I thought I was.

Am I?

The source of the comments is PRIVATE, not public.

The world can read your words, not knowing who you are.

I asked in real life. I asked in the real world.

Nobody wanted to tell me.

Nobody knows who you are, except me.

These words are not what you’ll see or hear in public ANYMORE.

I matter. Resistance is REAL.

I know who I was and I know who I am. I’ve allowed your words. Have you allowed mine?

My words are not in search of validation, or even recognition.

Privately, you say my words matter. Publicly, we are who YOU allow the world to see us as.

Hide who YOU are if you want.

Hide what is. Hide what was, if you want.

My value is hidden apparently from the public.

I know my value.

I know the value of words, and I know the value of hiding to feel safe.

So, this space with its privacy and anonymity capability is intended to allow people to share their opinions and views, without concern of being judged for being who they are, or who they're not.

We often dismiss valuable energy, information and opportunity because the source of this energy or opinion does not resonate at the time.

We guard words meant for one to not offend another, we share OF ourselves strategically.

At least I do.

What can I trust you with right NOW?

I have eaten my share of crow, more than a time or two.

I've spoken up when I knew nobody wanted to hear it.

I've made myself small and danced around words to protect.

Myself. Who and what's important to me.

Words don't always mean what is said.

What is meant is what they FEEL. Words "justify" as if they need permission.

Words can command or ask. Attempt to CONTROL or INVITE.

You can keep TELLING yourself that it'll all be ok,

or you can learn to ask the right questions and FEEL it.