I rebelled because they could not see me.
I rebelled because I wanted to distinguish myself from the
flock.
I rebelled because I needed some place to channel my
aggression.
I rebelled because I thought it made me cool to be an
outsider.
I rebelled because it felt safer to be feared.
I rebelled because the mainstream world did not honour my
authentic self.
I rebelled because I was ostracised
I also rebelled the day that the wings of my vehement and
wild spirit were cut ... I Shouted, cried, kicked, and howled but at the end I
realized that my flight and my wings only depended on me and just one me.
But then I realized that I was not actually getting anywhere
by rebelling.
Now I lovingly lick and heal my wounded wings
In fact, I was actually perpetuating my powerlessness by
defining myself through the eyes of the world. I was allowing the eyes of other
to establish my value.
Better to define ourselves from the authentic self outward,
than from the external world inward.
Better to rebel against image as a defining principle.
Our worth is a function of our authenticity.
Little else matters.
ps/smoh
