Today I took a long walk. I bought two more plants. I saw my aunt. I saw the car number first and then the head breaking out the car window to see if it was me or not. It was me, and it was her, and it made me smile. I waved to her and blew kisses. I love my aunt, but I have to continue to love her from afar.
It is because I choose love over fear. I choose self-love over the anxiety that conditional love induces. I love myself through the process of stepping deeper and farther into that self that I am loving. I trust and believe that the power of that love will bring to me, or bring back to me whatever belongs within that orb of love.
Today when I bought the plants, the man called me ‘Sir’ and he never realized that I was anything but a ‘Sir’. Although this has happened to me quite often in the last three months, in that particular moment, I realized the hypocrisy of my desire for neutrality. It doesn’t always make sense. Sometimes it even confuses me. Do I really want neutrality or is it just easier?
Truth is, I have zero problems with being taken for a ‘sir’. I like this. In contrast, I’m very bothered when I’m called ‘girl’ or a ‘woman’. Admitting this to myself, means that I don’t want neutrality. I want to be regarded as ‘man’, spoken to as ‘man’. In the same breath, it is nuanced, because I am still a woman in many ways. By admitting this openly, I also leave myself open to interpretation. Typically, once something is not easily understood, it can also be easily ascribed to any other classification that is next, and easiest. It is actually fear of disappointment that holds me back from entirely claiming my desire. I live in a country that is nowhere near affirming me in that reality, so openly embracing it means I leave myself in a quandary of still needing to preserve neutrality.
I don’t need to figure this all out today. I just need to enjoy seeing my aunt, meeting new plant friends, and enjoying a walk.
Walking it out, and walking deeper into myself.