Unafraid

            I am a slave to my own insecurities.  I hide behind the façade of politeness and silence, afraid that if I speak, all of my secrets and failures will be revealed to the world.  I cannot allow that to happen, no matter how I long to be free.

            I have always been this way, chained by fears of failure or embarrassment, burdened with worries of how others perceive me.  How I would love to be that dog on the beach, running in wild abandon after the stick in a game of fetch!  He doesn’t worry about the sand he will get in his fur or about the slobber that scatters the women sunbathing on the beach towel close by.  He doesn’t allow insecurities to steal the thrill of the game or the time spent with his master.

            He doesn’t allow his fears to steal his joy.

            I, on the other hand, can’t let go of my inhibition, holding tightly to the idea that I must act a certain way to win the affection of those around me.

            I want to dance and play in the middle of park, as if I’m alone in my bedroom without a care.  I want to sing louder than the wolves at night and announce my presence to the world – “Watch out! I’m here!” – if only I could find the key to my prison cell.