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  • If I only I had realised how much I had back then. I spent so long mourning the things I was not, the things I had not.

    I thought of myself as a caterpillar stuck. Stuck. Unable to transform into what I was meant to be. I did not realise I was already the butterfly.

    Some mornings I would wake unable to talk to my man. How could I tell him that I felt trapped. I had all I wanted, a love, a home, a career, but I could not move and sometimes I felt I was suffocating and wanted to escape. What to? Lord only knows. I certainly didn't. Probably exactly what I already had. But being able to flee, to feel free, to have choices was what I ached for.

    I called it an existential crisis back then. Always one for the dramatic! I had lost my sense of purpose. Let ego get crushed by fools and twisted minded psychs. I had started to forget all the aces things I have and am.
    Was.
    If only I had known.

    I would use social media sites, the craze back then, and 'like' people I didn't know and call them friend, in the hope they would 'like' me back. I would write stories on a site called 'cowbird'. This was full of writers, and I pretended to be one too, to feed my ego. I wrote songs of self pity and would even parody myself once in a while. I did have some self-awareness after all!

    Don't get me wrong, I had plenty of days when I did appreciate what I had. I was a devoted supporter of amnesty and sent letters to make me feel better about the 'struggle' that I was a distant and inactive part of. I knew I was in something like the richest 5% in the world, and tried not to feel hard up. I knew I had more freedom that 98% percent of the female population, and tried not to feel stuck. Sometimes I felt magnificent, free, lucky, blessed.

    I sometimes felt the green of the fields get into my pores where it belongs and felt home. I sometimes would stare at the stars and feel something pulling me into them that told me I was part of a huge cosmic family, my hum was their hum, my blood was their blood, we were the same.
    I would feel the love I gave and received flow with golden joy through my veins and skip to the beat of my youth and my freedom.

    But these days did not last. I indulged in the fantasy of losing my freedom and eventually lost all that I loved.
    I realised it all too late.

    Now here I sit, an old woman, alone in a cage, watching the robots patrol the lab I now call home. Who woulda seen that coming eh?!
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