Don’t Tell Me How To Feel
In defence of emotional rights.
- I do not need your permission to cry.
- I do not need to explain my happiness. You do not need to understand.
- “Calm down” does nothing to calm me.
- Your need for political correctness is lost on me.
- It is my choice to exclaim or not to, to use an expletive or a non-profane descriptor, to laugh aloud or chuckle. Do not try to manage my reactions.
- I will breathe as I like, dance how it pleases me and clap in ways that exemplify your definition of social awkwardness. You will bear it or walk far away from me.
- You cannot compel me to respect you. If it is not deserved, you will not get it, so earn it.
- Do not demand my eagerness, or expect my supportive anger at things you are angry at. I will reach my own conclusions.
- Reiteratively, I will not cut people off solely because you cut them off. And I may eat at places you no longer frequent. Your displeasure is not automatically my own. That is not disloyalty.
- I offer no apologies for being human. Do not anticipate any.
- I will love first, ask questions later. Do not infect me with your wariness, no one is out to get me.
- If I break, I will mend. And if I fall flat on my face, I will pick myself up. The fear of embarrassment will never quell my appetite to live the life of my dreams.
This heart is not your own,
Each sigh a different octave from yours.
You're unaware of its quiet strength,
And the shades of all its flaws.
These tears are not yours,
Visible and invisible.
For sadness or for joy,
No drop is dismissible.
My fears may not be familiar,
But don't call them unfounded.
Congratulations on your bravery,
Some of us are not that grounded.
These prayers are not your own,
Though needs often coincide,
Each finds their way to God’s Throne,
So let me search as it pleases me.