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Show Me Who You Are

Show me who you are. Who you really are.

I’m so tired of this false world. Tired of the same words, the same faces, the same sentiments, the same talk, the same … nothingness.

If you CrossFit, that used to tell me something. So too your “Wodkilla” shirt or your funky socks, or that “Mess You Up” beanie on your head. Now, your shirt, despite those words and symbols on it, says nothing to me. I have seen too many of the same. Now I need to see you.

Who are you?

Be real.

Be angry if you’re angry.

Be happy. Be love. Be envy. Be kindness. Be greed. Be hungry. Be laughter. Be sadness. Be light. Be the dark, in all its terrifying void, if that’s what you need to be right now.


Don’t be who you think you should be. Be who you are, and who you’re scared to be. Scared to show. Scared to yell, scared to whisper. Be that person. The one you’ve hidden all these years. The one who speaks your real name. The one who whispers in the language only you understand.

Don’t be like all the rest. I know you’re not, underneath, so stop trying to fit into the herd. There is safety there, but the price is too high. The price is your soul. And, please, do not give up your soul for anybody or anything. Resist.

So much of the world seems to be dying, and if you’re alive — really alive — I want to know it.

I need to know it. I need to know it like I need to breathe air.


“Passion is never enough; neither is skill. But try. For our sake and yours forget your name in the street; tell us what the world has been to you in the dark places and in the light. Don’t tell us what to believe, what to fear. Show us belief’s wide skirt and the stitch that unravels fear’s caul.” — Toni Morrison, “The Nobel Lecture”


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