If I impress, let it not be because I tried for it. Like the hollow success of winning through cheating at a game, I detract from my wholeness by offering up selected facets as polished, shining gems, and for what? A validation devoid of meaning; a badge of honour presented by unqualified hands.
If I impress, let it be for my real triumphs, the ones I couldn’t predict for myself; the strength I cultivated as I dragged myself up from the clawing, stalking pit of my own fears and messes, my face tear-stained, my lessons hard-won and my scars as intricate as they were inscrutable.
If I impress, let it not be for my worldly achievements, the merits I thought I could claim ‘cause society told me so. Let it be for my spontaneous moments of compassion, the impulsive motivations to bring my own contribution in the face of apparent hopelessness, on the volition of my spirit.
If I impress, let it be for my realness, my rawness, my guts and my willingness to be shattered; to confront my self-created horrors, as well as those imposed upon me. Let it be known that I was confused, I was wrong, I was angry; I was afraid, yet still I carried on.
If I impress, let it not be for the ephemeral insights snatched from my lips by the perpetual winds, never to be fully remembered. Let it be because I embraced my contradictory humanness, for my self-forgiveness; that I stared my demons in the face, and still shaking, I cast aside my most treasured comforts and jumped into the abyss.
If I impress, make it not for my smile, my style or my play. Let it be for the laughter lines around my eyes that triumphed in prominence over a furrow between them. Let it be because you see my essence shining through whichever version of me is presented on any given day, and because for that, I am just like you.