I am rebuilt

I am broken.
Broken free of expectations,
free of who I thought I wanted to be.
Had to be.
Demands I put upon myself,
wrapped myself up in,
cocooned myself into this creature I didn’t recognize.

Where did I put my love of all things geek?
When was the last time I spent time with my family?
Why didn’t I laugh anymore?

This creature trying so damn hard to conform.
A person whose skin I wasn’t comfortable calling my own.
Being tugged in every direction
by all these people she called friends.
Who said they loved her,
but only for who they wanted her to be.
The clothes and hair and makeup.
An attitude of aloofness.
Too much alcohol, not enough self-esteem.
Do whatever you want, my body is not mine to claim.

But wait,
all this time spent, and for what?
All this energy put into things and people who would never return it.

I am a wife, a daughter, a sister, a friend.
I am  netfix binger.
I am a laugh until my belly hurts kind of person.
I am a continual student of life.
I am broken.
I am rebuilt.

This poem is about: 
Me

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