I look like this,
And it's never enough.

I act like this,
And it's never enough.

I talk like this,
And it's never enough.

I bend, contorts, reshape, myself,
And it's never enough.

I don't know what to do,
Where I'm meant to be,
How I'm meant to fit in.
Or how I'm meant to feel safe with you.

You say you I'm gorgeous,
But your eye wanders,
You say I'm special,
But seek the attention from others,
You say I am so lovable,
But yet you can't commit to me.

I feel lost.
Confused,
Insecure,
Defeated,
Insufficient in your company.

I live on my nerves edge,
Never feeling confident,
Always catering to your needs,
Always trying to present perfectly,
Always persuading you to stay with me.

But this is stupid.
Let's take a step back,
Time to look at things objectively...
If you look at you,
Then you look at me,
Why am I pandering to your needs?

I'm gorgeous,
And smart,
Also kind, loving and considerate.
I buy the best presents,
And I give the best hugs,
I champion you in your lowest moments,
And hold space for you when you are afraid.

That's right,
I'm a great ******* catch,
And well above your score,
Anyone would be grateful to have me,
But yet you treat me as if you want more.

Who the **** do you think you are?
And how am I not enough for you?
Stop pushing me aside with your insecurities,
Stop getting in my head with your criticisms,
Stop torturing me with your contradictions.

You are not better than me,
You don't get to call the shots,
You don't get to hold all the cards,
You don't get to decide if I'm enough for you,
I am a total package, and you don't deserve me.

I look within,
Find my worth,
Get my courage,
Claim what is mine,
And leave your sorry *** behind.

I stand by my personal power,
And I am enough.

I communicate my needs, wants and desires,
And I am enough.

I hold my ground on my values,
And I am enough.

I present imperfectly in my authenticity,
And I am always enough.

It is rare for one to choose to live so isolated.
There are people everywhere,
Only meters away,
Barricaded in their boxes,
Guarded in their prisons of fear,
Wanting to be left alone,
Wanting to be left out of drama,
Wanting to be left out of judgement.

Isolation has become the new way of life,
The easy way out, than facing my fears.
To let someone in,
Is to let complication in,
Judgement, disapproval & burden,
I don't need that from another,
I have all that myself.

Instead I replace people with things,
Shiny possessions that fill my void,
Delicious cuisine that fulfills my pleasure,
Strenuous exercise to exhaust me at night.
To prove to you I'm doing great in the world,
To prove to you I'm not in need of your concern.

But loneliness is a sneaky thing,
Creeping in at your lowest moment,
Reminding you that your life is empty,
That your soul lacks communication,
That your soul lacks connection,
That your soul lacks completion.

I wake up every morning,
Filled with life,
Flowing with vigor,
Beaming with enthusiasm.

The day is here for me to create,
A total blank canvas for my own creation,
An open page of endless possibilities,
Just ready for me to make the first move.

I could...
Paint a self portrait,
Create a new dance step,
Model something out of clay,
Write love letters to myself,
Endless energy for creative play.

But first, let's get the basics out of the way.
Breakfast, cup of tea and the news,
Teeth, ****, then shower,
Some light housework and errands,
Decide what to cook for dinner.

I do a quick run to the supermarket,
Pick up some lunch on the way home,
Put on that load of washing,
Send that email I need to write,
And get my dinner prep done.

Exhausted by all this running around,
I need to recharge.
Brew a quick cuppa,
Put my feet up to rest,
Take a quick 10min power nap,
And then the day is mine to create.

...What was I going to do again?
Oh yes! Spontaneous day of creation,
Harness my relentless optimism for the day,
Surrender to the flow of magical possibilities,
Channel it into active, positive modes of creation.

But the time in my day is getting limited,
Enthusiasm is starting to wane,
And my momentum is being lost.
I start to think about all the mess it will create,
And the thought of cleaning it up.
  
....All my creative enthusiasm is gone.
Silenced by my default daily activities,
Routine and discipline are my trauma response,
Fear of being judged and labelled as lazy,
Pleasure and creativity gets lost along the way.

I get stuck in my need to present perfectly,
Making sure everything is in order before I can start my day,
Chores before play,
Hard work before reward,
Vegetables before dessert,
I am pre-programmed that enjoyment is a bargaining chip.

But that rule is a silly made up illusion,
A trauma response inherited from our parents.
Humans are naturally creative beings,
Creativity, joy and play are our default,
Our true catalyst for feeling alive.

Life in its beauty is all about creation,
It flows through our veins as magic,
Unable to be captured or stored,
It needs to be embraced in the moment,
Regardless if your bed has been made or not.

Creation is something I have to commit myself to,
A nourishing practice that fulfils my soul,
A rejuvenating outlet that brings me back to life,
A daily non-negotiable for my well being,
A purpose greater than working the 9 to 5.

Because if we aren't creating,
What is the point of life?
Eat, sleep, marry and pay taxes?
That isn't the life I expected for myself,
This won't be the life I create for myself.