Bulletproof Marshmallow

How much of ourselves are we willing to expose for an attempt at making others understand us? How much of ourselves are we willing to sacrifice as an attempt to fit snugly into society’s cookie cutter?
I’ve watched talent strum a guitar and melodically sing their secrets for a room full of people. I’ve witnessed a powerful voice stifled for fear of appearing too opinionated. I’m inspired by both. Motivated to keep pursuing the things that I love as an outward expression of all of the unique and wonderful secrets that I’m made up of. Conscious of my actions, words and opinions and other people’s interpretation of them. I’m tired of censoring myself in direct correlation to the people that surround me. I’ve become different, yet not entirely complete, versions of myself to appease my audience. There are only a handful of people who will ever be exposed to me in my entirety. The laughs that come from my belly, the tears that come from my heart, the fears that come from my ignorance, the insecurities that from my inhibition, the passion that comes from my desire for knowledge and experience, me at my very best, very worst and everything in between. How much would we unveil if there was no one to judge us? Would we lose ourselves if we no longer had any secrets to keep? It’s an elaborate game of half-truths and manipulation. Are these the things that make us who we are?
Maybe the best way to be who we really are is to find a place where we don’t have to be anything else