The Performer

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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