My name is Miss Chameleon

I have been called this several times… Chameleon. It’s been a protective skill and worked in social situations. It also stops me from connecting with… well… myself. Living through personas and identities as I didn’t know who I was. How do I *be* that person? 

Take on the colour of someone else who I want to be and paint it lusciously over my body. Brush on the expression, the tone, mannerisms, beliefs.. become their prodigy. Vulnerably teachable. I belong. 

Although I don’t meet the criteria for BPD anymore, I wonder when a shift happens if it’s really me or have I just grabbed onto another script? The sway for example from evangelical Christian to passionate …. I’m having a hard time labeling it. This might be a good thing. I was going to say crunchy, or critical academic, I don’t know what it is and I’m happy about that.

Get on that yoga mat and I can just let it be. Be me.

Let go Chameleon girl, you have your own colour now


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