Originally posted 2020.01.28
I was once putting together two beautiful puzzles; one a handsome little boy who loved playing in the baseball diamond sand, and one a sweet little girl who couldn’t wait to play with her cousins’ barbies.
As the puzzles progressed, people started telling me which piece had to go where. I’d find a sparkly bit of pink and try to put it on the boy, only to be told it belonged on the girl. I’d find a dazzling emerald green that fit perfectly on the girl, but I was forced to take it back to put on the boy.
When the puzzles were almost done, I paused to compare them. I saw two broken, lifeless counterfeits, created only to satisfy others. But I was not satisfied. I was furious. My puzzles were ruined.
I tore them apart.
I started over.
I put all the pieces precisely where I wished, with no regard to anyone else’s input. Greens and pinks and blues and reds clashed chaotically, but everything fit together perfectly. At the end, I stepped back and realized I didn’t have two puzzles- the girl and the boy were gone.
It had been me all along.
Just me.
Fiercely Fluid 