Two paths diverged in a wood
And I thought of Robert Frost
Who taught me to take the one less traveled.
The left path was covered in bramble bushes and thorns
The right was clear and cozy.
The left was dark,
Mysterious
Strangely inviting.

And did I take the path less traveled as a hipster might do,
Out of fear of conformity?
No.
Did I take it because Robert Frost told me to?
No.
I took the path less traveled because I knew already where everyone else was going.
To push through the brambles,
To decide my own path,
To choose my own destiny despite the hardships,
Meant veering away from the popular.
But it also meant new results.

And I have bled.
I have been cut
Slashed
Wounded for the transgression of being different.
And the path has been painful.
It has been hard.
Many that I thought would walk with me
Have fallen by the wayside.
Yet I look at how far I have come
How much I have grown.
Yes, this path has hurt me.
It has hurt me enough to want to turn back,
To cry off my quest and leave the path of the beam.
How much pain can one person endure?
How much will snap even the strongest resolve?
Still, I persisted.

Through pain
Through rain and snow
Death and tears
Heartbreak and sorrow
I marched forward.
And Robert Frost was right all along:
It really has made all the difference.