If I were to draw me
If I were to paint me
If I were to create a physical representation of me me

I would draw a dancer
One who seems in control
Like she has it together
Like she has full command of her movements, of the floor, of her partner, of the music
She knows what she is doing and she is doing it well
Her partner trusts her
The floor trusts her
She does not trust her
She is making it up as she goes
But she knows she is making it up wrong
But they can't know that.

I would draw a child
full of insecurities
Full of rebellion
Full of doubt - in herself; in the world
A black hole for love
A vessel of fear
But they can't know that either

I would draw me as a kind warrior. A commander
as I step into an imaginative reality that is aided by games, by friends.
I am confident there.
My mistakes are large, but there is nothing real to lose - we can always try again.
My compassion is a rare gem, noticed by any who get close enough to look
(mainly jagged rocks are seen in these seas)
The friendships are Real. And I am too.

I would draw myself as a child.
At least, that is how it would look at first
I would be standing next to a man, my dad.
Upon looking closely, one would realize the man is the child.
And the child is the adult.

I would draw myself as a mom
Picked by her kids. Chosen. Looked up to.
Seen as cool, wise, infallible. A great mom. One full of love.
They would only be right about that last part
And they would only be right about that last part sometimes