Boxes. I never liked them. The idea of them, the containment. In my younger days I never boxed myself into one career, one relationship, one place to live. And yet a friend recently told me that the teddy I had given her son was a Dancer because I was a Dancer, full stop. Each teddy he received was to have the profession of its’ giver. It’s a sweet concept, and very thoughtful, but I may’ve laughed out loud. Not only am I no longer a Dancer, the idea that in this life I had been assigned one identity based on a period of my life seemed bizarre to me. Soon I will be a Mama, (note- I originally wrote this at the end of pregnancy, yes it’s taken me this long post this) and will likely be known as a Mama, maybe ‘just’ a Mama and it will be the greatest honour. Most of our new friends don’t know I was a Dancer, because I don’t share unnecessarily, and don’t feel the need to often visit days past. I also know I am so much more than that. I am a student, an eternal one at that. I am a writer, I am a philosopher. I am a teacher. I am healer, and I am a counsellor. I am a painter, and I am a singer. I am a musician. I am a magician. I am a leader, and I am a follower. I am a pioneer, I am a warrior. I am a ninja, I am a fighter, but I am a Lover too. I am a cook, I am a cleaner. I am a housewife. I am a master planner and organiser. I am a treasurer. I am a saint, I am a sage, I am naive. I am a beginner. I am wise and I am childish. I am all of these things and so, so, so much more. Maybe I was meant to be flattered by my own title, you see I could’ve been a cashier, which of course I have been. But little would it matter because I would still be all of these things, and more. I am a Goddess And I am eternal. Labels just don’t fit me anymore.
You only know a part of me. I am a Universe full of secrets.