The Performer…
Why did I want to perform?
At the start, it was to feel seen and loved. To feel like I mattered.
I found my worth in it…
I mattered because I made people laugh.
Was I the joke?
I’m not as good as he is.
I’m not as tall.
I’m not as fair.
I’m not as skilled.
I’m scared. I hate this. I hate myself.
All in service of the I.
And then I found the truth. In service of the art…
And it made my heart leap.
I stepped away from the performance of being a performer… The facetiousness wore thin easily.
I am free, performer. Get away from me.
Your lies, false sense of worth, and pride have no place in this new life I choose.
Free of the façade. Free to run and love and hurt and hope.
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