Free-spirited.

That’s what I want people to feel when they meet me.

Raw, real, alive.

Why?

Because I’ve had enough of being perfect. Perfect grades in math. Perfect clean house. Perfect quiet daughter who never talked back.

Never caused trouble.

Never existed too loudly.

My father’s voice: “Check your work. Clean your room. Be quiet. Be good.”

Love meant 100% test scores. Love meant spotless floors. Love meant being invisible until needed. While other kids played, I solved extra math problems. While they laughed, I organized cabinets.

Again. Again. Again.

Then one day I said “no.” Simple word. Terrifying word. My voice shook, but it came out anyway. No. And the world didn’t end. It cracked open instead, letting in light.

I’m learning now. Learning to say no more often. Learning to have a voice. Learning to take up space. It’s not rebellion – it’s baby steps toward breathing. Toward living.