shedding the skin

As I set out on this road that beckons me, I prepare myself for the journey like I have prepared for no other. I may be a seasoned traveller, have a nomadic heritage, but this isn’t a journey like others have been. On this path, I will not need to pack up all my belongings, taking the weight of my life with me, to set up home elsewhere. I will not be asked to go somewhere against my will, against my own desire. I will have choices, starting from right now. And best of all, I really can travel light. I have always had hope and excitement at the start of every journey, but I have also had a stubborn determination to forge ahead, trampling all the while on everything that has gone before, lest the grief, the sadness, those feelings I should have let myself experience, held me back. And I’ve had the burden of what awaits me to face, the expectations of others, a new group of new faces. So I’ve learned over the years to wear a mask, to be as far as possible what others expect of me, to hide the flaws, hide the scars, hide the darkness, to be the person that will elicit smiles, friendliness, the person who fits in. Not on this journey. On this journey, I will leave this mask, which has indeed become like a skin, behind in the surrender box. It may have served me before, but it does not belong on this journey. On this journey, I will set out naked and free to be the person I am.