glitter

In the days of marker stained hands and naked feet, I let my daydreams and fairytales tell me that there would be a day when I would grasp my pot of gold, a day when I would hold my prince, and a day when I would get a glimpse of my very own yellow brick road. When this glittery day came, a day when the clouds would break and God would pat me on the head, when this day of understanding and lucidity finally came, I would be whole. I told the future to hold my heart, my purpose, and even asked the future to hold my identity. I would be all of me when I squeezed my way into the fairytale sitting on my pale yellow bookshelf. Every expired calendar in the garbage and every wish blown away with the birthday candle smoke brought another impatient and disenchanted question. The quest for clues and answers colored the life that I now live. My purpose isn’t to find my purpose. I'm to live, love, and be. I'm not required to uncover perfection and put it on display. Identity is not a goal or a finish line; identity is the living, the loving, and the being.