I am a thinker, perhaps too much,
encouraged to get out of my head and be like everyone else.
Restless and afraid, others often fear being alone,
but that’s where I gain the strength to engage their company.
In my solitude I recharge. I grow and learn and listen.
My heart speaks my truth. My stillness grants me joy.
For it is within this quiet, His whisper is loud and clear,
Designed for a purpose; He is not capable of mistakes.
Feeling misunderstood used to be the common thread,
always a step ahead or behind, rarely in sync.
Yet secretly honoring what my own soul needs,
at the risk of creating distance with those who try to change me.
And while I’ve spent years trying to understand,
struggling to conform has always been my beautiful blemish.
Finally exhausted with why; no more feeling damaged.
I know I am not broken and acceptance is my freedom.
I love all of me and my whimsicality makes me proud.
Wonderfully and fearfully made, I embrace myself
for everything I am not, made me everything I am.