I am the rebel who wants to break tradition. Who hates going along with the crowd. Who grates inside with discomfort when I go along anyway. Who wants to stand out. Who aches for a creative flair or bared, shocking honesty in her artistic expressions.
I am the rebel who’s highly defended, who strikes back in silent judgement when I feel attacked. Even when the attacker is me.
I am the rebel who says no to authority – no to those I willingly allowed to be my guide with their judgement and opinion. Who slinked in the shadows of her “bad girl” past. Who now stomps her foot in defiance to the voices pleading against change. Both the ones physically grasping at her legs, and the ones alive in her head.
I am the rebel who is brave, who tells the hidden story with her head held high, who is daring and determined. Daring and determined to move beyond a “comfortable” life into the adventure and risk of the unknown.