I am taking back my Power

I'm done with letting other people define who I am.

I know I live with my head in the clouds. I've designed my life to be that way. That is how I choose to live, because in the clouds, anything is possible, and isn't life exciting in a place like that? That's where I like to be, and where I am happy.

I know I'm emotional. But isn't that wonderful? To be able to feel life with such intensity? Not that it doesn't cause difficulties, and doesn't paint my life in shades of gray and black sometimes, but it's better than than the alternative. And as often as it paints my life in darkness or dullness, it just as often paints it in brilliant blues and purples.

Well, to be honest, I'm still trying to find that balance, but it's coming.

I'm sick of singing in the hopes that someone will like me. I sing because I have this gift, and don't you dare try to judge me on if it's good enough. I'm done with that. I will always work on it, but it's good enough as it is.

I am beautiful just as I am, and I've spent all my life not believing that. I am taking back my power, and my right to inhabit this world as I am. All my life I thought I was inherently flawed.

Well, not anymore. That is done right now.

I AM ENOUGH. I AM BEAUTIFUL. I AM OKAY. I AM POWERFUL.

I don't usually do this, but I'm going to post a poem that I myself wrote. Here it is:

When I was younger I ran to the edge, to the brink, to the lip, and sobbed, begging.
Take it. Please. I don't want it. I can't deal with it.
Nothing answered.
Then I learned
to push it under
To pummel it and to punish it
and to hate it, finding ways to reaffirm the fact
that I was wrong wrong wrong.

Now suddenly I sob and beg again at the brink.
Help me. Please. I couldn't get rid of it. I couldn't deal with it.
This time a voice whispers back
gently, barely audible.

It sighs:
Don't you know that this is what makes you beautiful?