Confession: I am Struggling

I am alot of things. I wrote a poem expressing this. I even read it at an Open Mic night in a coffee shop downtown. It went really well.

I am
By Stephanie Richard

I am an Artist
Contained by walls of true and false responsibility

I am beautiful
Beneath the weight I carry

I am a mother
Though, my children do not define me

I am Young
Behind the wheel of my minivan

I am Strong
But that only lasts so long

I am an absolute Mess
But only when no one is watching

I am authentic
At least, I so intensely want to be

I am a Christian
But screw trying to be fake and pretending like I have it all together

I am Hurting
I’m not supposed show it, but the pressure to be everything to everyone and my inability to do so is a self inflicted torture that seems impossible to escape.

I am Angry
May your unrealistic expectations, narrow judgments, and demand for perfection fall back onto your own bare and unburdened shoulders, as I smile and shrug them off

I am Reminded
That though the demands of life are never satisfied, I am a woman. I am a daughter, a sister, a lover, and a friend. Despite all the things I put on, and the intensity of what I carry, apart from my circumstances and even my life, the substance of my significance is the realization that I am me.

It was an awesome turn out, and one more thing to check off of my list.