Open


What if my grief is too much to bear, And I cry myself to sleep, Who will see my pain? Unless I'm open.


What if I can no longer carry the weight of the world on my shoulders,

And I fear the mess I’ll make if I drop it, Who will see my struggle?

Unless I’m open.


What if I stop being the woman the world wants me to be,

And I become who I really am,

Who will see my truth?

Unless I’m open.


What if I stop following the God on the outside,

And I turn inward to the God on the inside,

Who will see my spirituality?

Unless I’m open.


What if I stop believing in my limitations,

And I fearlessly chase my dreams,

Who will see my courage?

Unless I’m open.


What if I take two steps forward, one step back, over and over again,

And I make it up that mountain I didn’t know I could climb, Who will see my strength?

Unless I’m open.


What if I strip away the persona I’ve carefully woven to keep myself safe,

And I show the world my story,

Who will see me?

Unless I’m open.

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This poem was inspired by a conversation I had with my sister. As humans, we crave authentic connections. We want someone by our side to bear witness to our highs when we triumph, and our lows, without judgment, when we fail. We need someone to truly see both our power and our weakness; someone who understands that we are neither our triumphs nor our failures, yet we are both. That's the beauty of humanity—for our triumphs shape that which we create, and our failures teach and reroute us.


Often, to fit into the status quo that society and culture have set, we build walls so high that we block those connections we so deeply crave.


Let's remove those barriers. Let's be open.


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