NdukuOutLoud

I am on a journey. Not without, but within.

There’s no particular destination in mind, not sure if there’s one really. Yet, I am staying and enjoying the ride altogether.

I am not alone in this journey of mine. Not the first one to do this. But for some reason, it feels like it’s just me.

The last one to the part of self love and self confidence. Last one to get an outfit to the ‘you-can-do-anything-you-want’ recital.

Late.

And unprepared. What should I bring? What will I need? Who do I call when I get lost?

I never saw myself here. I always believed in taking what you get. And accepting my serving of life and it’s recipes.

But now I realize I can choose what goes on my plate. I can decide to throw out the disgusting sauce and the nuts that keep getting stuck in my teeth. And get water if I like.

And not just the plate, I get to decide the table, too.

I get to choose whose table I join, and who is welcome at mine.

Choice.

And indecision. I did not know all this was possible, and now picking a meal at the buffet has become quite the task.

Do I empty what I’d already put on my plate, or can I make room for more as it is? Will they go well together or is this a recipe for disaster?