I want to live a public life.
No, by public, I don’t mean like a celebrity or a D-lister or Instafamous. Frankly, I couldn’t give a shit about what other people think about me, especially like that, when they absorb a millimeter of just a public face and take it to describe the depths of me and my life and my soul. No, no, no, no, not that public.
I mean public by being part of a community that knows me and I know it. Of a community that I am, obviously, of and deeply embedded in. I want to live my life in public, out loud, visible and known, understood, appreciated, reviled – if I must – but present. Fully engaged and constantly learning and growing with it.
- I do not want to stick myself in a box, gilded or not, with a pretty wife, gilded or not, with useless things, gilt or bronze
- I do not want to live quietly; in a cage; in a hole; like a zombie; headphones stuck in my ear canals and fingers pressed flat to glass screens, my nose merely a smidge away from being a smudge on the that same screen
- I do not want to be with someone who would rather hide me away then let me free
I will not be tied down, leashed and made to be smaller, to be less than — I won’t allow it, no, I will not be shoved into a corner and parred down into a box.
I want so much; I need it, really, need it like all people need fresh air, clean water, and good food to grow and to thrive. For the past few months, I feel like I have been slowly hidden away, slumbering like Sleeping Beauty, awaiting a false kiss.
No more. This sleeping beauty – this sleeping dragon – has awoken herself.
I will live loud and in public. I will speak loud and carry a big stick, too! I will do as I need to because to live my the life I want, I (no other) must live it.
I must do it. And I will. And I am.