waiting

for someone to crash into me.

to show me that all this love I have inside has a counterpart that can't wait to love someone else just like them

to leave this fucking country

to get a book published

to dance with someone without any regard for who may be watching

or when we know no one is watching

especially when no one is watching

for my son to encounter the world in a less stressful manner

for the world to change so that he doesn't have to change who he is just to fucking exist.

for peace

for love to prevail

waiting for the unknown

waiting for this wall to crumble to ruins

for my voice to get a little louder

for my heart and my head to disagree every now and then

but the waiting is sometimes the very best part.

for once the waiting is over, what the hell else is supposed to occupy my time?

worry

I used to worry that the things I said or did back when I was an idiot will catch up to me and that's who I really am.

I used to worry that if my father heard some of the words that come out of my mouth in public, he just might disown me.

I used to worry about whether or not I'd make a good mother.

I used to worry that I would never be attractive to the opposite sex, that I wasn't a good athlete, that I was really stupid deep down inside.

I used to worry about what people thought of my decisions.

I used to worry that I would never get married, that I was too loud, that no man would ever put up with me.

I used to worry that people were always mad at me.

I used to worry that I was lazy, that I wasn't ambitious enough.  That all the decisions I made were absolutely wrong and that I would end up in a homeless shelter or a morgue by the time I was 30.

I used to worry about a lot of things.  I was so consumed with worry that I had panic attacks sometimes when I couldn't find my keys.  When I was little, I used to worry that the boogeyman would get me in my sleep so I would sleep in a sleeping bag and shove every single stuffed animal I owned in there with me so that no part of my body would be susceptible to the boogeyman's evil.  I see now how excitable I was in my youth.

But then, I became a mother and my entire purpose shifted.  Well, it appeared, really.  I figured out that my purpose on this earth was to make it a better place; to make my son's life as love-filled and groovy as possible.  And then, over time, my worry slowly dissipated as I just went and did exactly what I said I was going to do and I became who I am today.  A woman, free from the chains of a past I cannot change, a body that will never look the same as it did before I had my son, and the deep-seated worry that I am not worthy of love.  My father will never disown me because he loves me no matter what I blurt out in a fit of excitement.  I am who I am.  The common thread here is love.  I love myself and those around me, and in turn, all that worry went away and I don't think I could get it back if I tried.

Don't get me wrong; I still worry.  But the only thing that worries me now is a future for my son that doesn't include equality for all.  A world that oppresses women, that attempts to make everyone the same religion.  A world that refuses to step forward and accept all people for exactly who they are.  I worry my work won't be enough.  That my love won't be enough.  But above all, I worry that the faith I have in mankind is a complete joke and that we really are on the way down as a species.  To me, there is nothing scarier than a world full of people that don't love each other.