One day I will wake up, and I will make myself believe
That I was a graceful gentle woman who could speak what was on her mind
My parents will see who I really was, always happy and brave and excited about the smallest stupidest thing I saw.
My brother, well, he already knows who I really am.
I would make myself believe I had courage to approach him
tell him all the things I couldn’t before.
I would make myself believe I had the courage to stand up for myself.
That I didn’t have to tell her everything and everywhere I went.
I would make myself believe that I was really free to make my own choices
To pursue my own dreams.
Perhaps I’d make myself believe I was brave enough to do something daring.
To pursue medical school. Or to learn five different languages and travel around the world.
I’d wake up and the first thing I would do is scream. At the world
At the wretched treacherous world.
Then I would sing, because I had always wanted to sing, but was never brave enough to.
I would cry and cry and cry. I would be weak and helpless and wallow in self-pity.
Then I would get up and march forward. Pursue the dreams I had myself. Unafraid of failure.
Turning a deaf ear to discouragement. Turning a deaf ear to all the “what-ifs”
I would tell myself over and over again from Day 1:
“You only have one life to live…You only have one life to live…”
Then I will really wake up.
Wildly hoping that I had carried some of that courage with me back