I am not your perfect diamond

 2nd August 2020:

I don't remember who I was before. 
Before I was made into who I am, 
By the world,
By society,
By hardship,
By complacency,
By obsession,
By oppression...

Who am I underneath all these external pressures?
The external forces that tried to cast me into a diamond.
But why would I want to be a diamond? 
Sparkling, shiny and sought after by so many?

I am no diamond, valued by popularity.

Your pressure, your views, your demands have shaped me, but only because I let them.

I can be a diamond in my strength, letting the hardships and power make me stronger.

But with each adversity I should still be me.

I was the one who let the opinion of others influence my opinion of self.

You can make me a diamond in strength, but I do not wish to conform in image.

But if not a diamond what am I? An ether? A raging fire? The oceans? The skies? The dirt in the ground?

Your crystal clear sparkling diamond has never been the image on my skin. 
Your crystal clear perfectly cut diamond has never been the perfectly conformed behaviour in my nature.

I have felt bound and restricted by conformity and a desire to fit in most of my life. 
While simultaneously feeling like a tempest of rebellious emotions laid within me.

I have fire in my mind, a torrent of rivers in my heart, a reserve of poweful wind in my feet itching to be used... all while my body is a heavy rock of calm grounding me.

But when conformity suppresses the fire, the rivers and the winds;
I find myself too heavy to move.

The fear of igniting the world around me on fire,
The fear of flooding my own heart,
The fear of being blown completing off course,
The pressure to conform, 
Locking me in a stagnant state;

Fearing an explosion if I indulge in the desires within me,
Fearing that reality will always come along and crush me, 
Fearing that taking the risk means, having high hopes and reality bringing me back down hard.
Taking the risk means, taking the pain that comes with it, 
And fearing that the pain will be unbearable, 
Makes me fear taking the risk.

I know I could reach high if my confidence let me,
But the higher you are the more you can fall,
And the fear of crashing to the ground stops me daring to even make the climb.

But the itching in my feet, the fire in my mind, the rivers in my heart, 
Like wild animals being forced to remain caged, 
Are furious, 
Are desperate for freedom.

Freedom from the conformity,
But more than anything,
Freedom from myself.