Who are you when no one else is looking?
Are you an archetype? There are so many.
Are you an object? Society would say yes. It’s possible.
You know the answer is no, most days.
What happens when none of it fits anymore and we stop trying to pass but others continue to suit up?
How do you handle it when you want to take someone by the hand and show them it’s extra work we don’t have to do?
Still an archetype? The savior, perhaps.
Keep peeling back the layers until you hit the center.
Through the sting of loneliness, and all the work you did to insulate yourself, keep peeling.
Practice going outside like that.
How does one become comfortable going out naked, without archetype, refusing to wear the objectification of others?
Time, practice, and determination, without expectation.
Soft heart, thick skin. One layer.