Poetry,  Religious Trauma

The Dangerous One

“He tried not to look long at her, as if she were the sun, yet he saw her, like the sun, even without looking.”

Being seen. That’s hard for me. In the past it always was safer to be small, to blend in, to comply, to fly under the radar.

I learned how to say and do what was expected of me, to not hold my own opinions. I learned to merge with other people, to reflect those around me instead of shining my own light.

Now, in a safe community I have been encouraged to take up more space, to stand taller, to speak louder, to disagree.

Being seen. That’s new to me. I am taking the risk of carrying myself in a way that commands attention; shining bright even for those who are not looking. I’m standing my ground when I know I’m right. I can demand to be seen, I can be the dangerous one.

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