I am all too aware of what the world wants of me.

I know the role I’ve been given to play and I can easily put on a performance that pleases society. The script I’ve been given have words I’ve memorized to heart.

Proper.
And quiet.
Properly quiet.
Smile demurely, but heaven help us if I throw my head back in unabashed laughter.
Modestly confident.
Qualify my worth with degrees and diplomas because I could never know enough on my own.
Always apologize, as if for my existence.
A body that looks a certain way but doesn’t hunger or crave or desire.
Assured, without ever interrupting.
Pleasing bosses, kids, parents, parents-in-laws, men’s dicks before myself.

But you say you want all of me.

I don’t know if you know what that really means. I don’t know if I know what that really means.

Because I’ve never been all of me. I don’t even know how deep I go or how high I can fly. I have no sense of how much I can be.

You say you want my body freely without shame, but what about when it wants you in the middle of the afternoon and bucks as I grip and groan on top of you?

You say you want my full spectrum of emotions (ha – as if there’s a numerical and measurable scale), but what about when that comes with red eyes and a blotchy face with tears rolling down my cheeks simply because I feel something so strongly but want you to fix nothing?

You say you want to hear my dreams and support my self-expression, but what about when I write publically about things women aren’t even supposed to whisper about and challenge the world with a message that doesn’t favour the way you’ve lived in it for so long?

I know what the world wants of me and I worry you want that same, safe, stifled version… but not the whole me.

This messy, unrestrained, passionate woman who feels too much and desires deeply, do you really want her?

If it’s still a yes, without reserve or caution, let’s do it all.

Each other in the middle of the morning or in the moonlight.
Emotions wide and far and deep and high.
I’ll hold your head fiercely against my chest when you need my heart and you can hold me in your arms and tenderly wipe my tears without lie.
Dreams first shared between us with a whisper, but then shouted with our souls as we bring them to life before the very eyes that fell for each other over a glass of rose and a beer and a tealight at the corner table.

If you’ll have me, I want to give you all of me.

And take on the world together so our daughters grow to know a different role they’ve been given to play and can write their own script.

But if not, I’m not apologizing anymore. I’m living for me now. Not you, not the world.

Because I want all of me.