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Who Can I Be Now?
Hmmm, if it’s all a vast creation
Putting on a face that’s new
Someone has to see,
a role for him and me
Someone might as well be you…
Stand up straight.
Walk with your feet apart.
Chew with your mouth closed.
Your breathing makes me sick.
You’ll never be happy being you.
A real man doesn’t cry.
Real men. What exactly were they and why did my fascinations seem to fall under the “real men don’t…”
Like most any teen I was bathing in anxiety. The most convenient escape from the torments of puberty was my bedroom. My bedroom had become my sanctuary. I’d taken an old headscarf from my mom and draped it over the lamp’s shade to keep the room darker. In a darker room I felt more invisible, which delivered an immediate sense of safety. Slipping on my headphones and dropping the needle I began to hear a different voice. A beautiful voice! Melody paired with thought provoking lyrics. Nearly breathless I studied the album covers and liner notes, which opened this forbidden fantasy world containing- bangles, feathers and sequins. Somehow through all that, I began hearing my own voice. Just faintly, but it was there…