She lived with it. Fear of being herself. Fear of others. Fear of rejection. Fear of dejection.
She faced it everyday in the mirror. Fear of facing herself. She reflected upon it in the eyes of her friends. What if they wouldn’t like this new dress of hers? What if they wouldn’t find her acceptable? What is their definition of beauty? What if they start hating her, for what she is? Fear.
What would happen if she expressed her thoughts? What would happen if she says what she feels, at precisely that moment, be it deep into the bosom of the sultry night, or into the freshness of the day light? Fear kept lingering by her home. It did, day in and night out. It fought a relentless battle. Hoping against hopes, it clung to its apprehensions. It revered her parochialism. Then, something stung it. It could not contain it. Fear lost. Lost, like no other adversary would have lost. Peacefully, full of awe and calmness. Fear bowed before it.
That one moment. And she found herself. She sensed the courage to grope for herself. Her thoughts knew no bounds. Life had never been freer. That one moment of her life, for which she had waited for 230 months, not knowing that she was waiting. Not knowing, that every baited breath she took, harbingered in their deepest souls, the coming of the serenity. For which every cell in her body had multiplied and died. That one moment. She was herself.
Love. She found herself. She was herself. She was Love. So is She.