This is a piece I wrote almost a year ago. Its about change, and my fear that no one like the me I am becoming. This was one of those pieces that wrote itself. I didn’t think about it as the pen moved – the words just flowed, and I was left with this powerful piece that really spoke to me.

What if I don’t like the person I become?
What if I don’t like what’s left after all the layers are gone?
What if other people don’t like what is left of me?
Will I be even lonelier then?
Will I cry as much?
Will anyone else cry for me?
Will it hurt to peel the layers off?
What if there is nothing left of me that I have become used to?
What then? Will it be too late for me?

I want to be real, but what will that do to me?
I ask myself, how can it possibly get any worse.

The layers protect me. Can I protect myself?
Can I really do this?
I want to, but I am scared.
How will it feel? Will I feel?

Who will look back at me in the glass?
Will I be happy with my true self?
What will she sound like?
Will my true self have a soothing voice that others want to hear?
What will she look like?
Will she smile more?
Will I want to be with my true self?
Will I be happy being with my true self?
Because sometimes I am not happy being with myself now.
I find lots of things to do to avoid being with myself.

I don’t belief in my Self.
Will Self believe in me?
I want to press on and find out, but I am scared.
Why am I so scared?
Is it fear of what I will find?
What if there is no richness?
What if there is no one?
Will I find a kind soul, or is it too late?
Will I know what to do?
Will I know when I get there?
Will there be a “we”?
Who will I share my true self with?
I want to share her with someone.
Will anybody be there when I arrive?
Who will be waiting for her?