You know what’s strange? People always say “Just be yourself.” Then get uncomfortable when you do. I spent forty minutes getting ready Then acted like I hadn’t tried That’s the rule, isn’t it? Effort without evidence I changed my top three times Because one looked “too serious” One looked “too inviting” And one looked exactly like me Which somehow felt worse Funny that Some nights I can feel myself performing Before I’ve even left the apartment Smile here Touch his arm there Don’t sound angry Don’t sound cold Don’t sound smarter than the room Jesus Christ And the worst part is Sometimes I still want them to like me anyway I’m tired of bending myself Into shapes that photograph well Tired of laughing softly At things that aren’t funny Maybe that’s what this is Not confidence Just exhaustion finally telling the truth Did an interview last week The host kept calling me “mysterious” Which is usually what men say When a woman answers carefully Because experience taught her to He asked who broke my heart I nearly said “The internet” But apparently that’s “too cynical” for daytime radio I don’t know Maybe I’m disappointed In how quickly people turn each other into products Even love feels branded now Curated Filtered Captioned beneath soft lighting Like everybody’s auditioning For affection Sometimes I miss who I was Before I understood certain things Before every compliment Started sounding negotiated Before every room Felt slightly evaluated I still want tenderness though That’s the embarrassing part I want to walk into a room Without calculating myself I want to sing one song Without wondering how it’ll be clipped online I want one honest conversation That doesn’t become content later And maybe that sounds dramatic But lately The whole world feels like it’s staring into a mirror Asking strangers who to be Anyway Maybe I’ll wear the red dress after all
