What Empowers Me Doesn't Have To Make Sense To You

I don't feel that I need to justify my choices to anyone, but occasionally it does others well to understand more about me so that maybe they might stop themselves from voicing their disapproval or opinions too quickly in the future.

Have you ever had your choice ripped away; denied with a force you couldn't fight back against? I have; more than once. First, at the hands of someone who was supposed to love and care for me. When I didn't behave as he thought I should, he imposed his will on me. Rather than talk about what I had done wrong, or try to understand why I chose to act as I did, he doled out his own brand of violence. A child should be guided, nurtured and loved, not controlled, and molded into someone else's idea of who they should be with a heavy hand. As a child, I was punished for being something other than what this man expected me to be. The negative energy invaded me, pushing me to rebel. It also encouraged self-doubt and rendered my choice a simple tool to defy. I wasn't making choices to choose; I was making moves just to be contrary. Choice was never mine. Not at this time.

Have you ever had someone else's will thrust upon you, paralyzing and nullifying your ability to choose anything at all? As I entered adulthood, my freedom of choice was again stripped away, leaving me powerless and less than whole. Two men took what should only be given by choice. Uncertainty and lack of self-trust are woeful things. I should have been embracing the start of life on my own; overwhelmed by the sheer volume of choices that I was faced with, not the brutal theft of something I'd barely had experience with. I became stoic, I pushed back, but again, it was reactionary. Choice was something I still didn't have a solid grasp of. I wouldn't for a long time to come.

As I approach my 43rd birthday, I have no doubts about the role choice plays in my life today. I understand what it means to weigh options and pick a path. I know that there are consequences, just as much as there are benefits to the direction I move. I consider the impact any choice will have on me, and on those who may be affected. Despite the lack of experience afforded me early in life, I am responsible, as well as fully capable of choosing. I value freedom of choice, and I respect it.

When it comes to my body, I am the only person qualified, and the only person allowed to make choices. If I want to change the way I look, regardless of how it is my right to choose. If I want to decorate my body with tattoos, celebrate the incredibly precious gift of choice, and own who I am, I do not owe anyone an explanation. 

We shouldn't judge one another because our choices do not always reflect someone else's. There shouldn't be an expectation of an explanation. We don't always know what someone has been through, we can't possibly see all the parts that make up a person's sum; we can be accepting and supportive, remembering that we are individuals, with separate and varied life experiences, no matter what our role in their world might be. You are you, and I am me. 

Be kind, stop and think before you project your opinion. The person you're attempting to convince of your view may be exercising something you take for granted - like choice - because they've experienced the hell of once not having the luxury to do so. I choose to exercise my choice and celebrate ownership of my body in my own powerful ways. You don't have to agree, you don't need to like it, but it's my choice and you should respect me despite your feelings about it.