Chaos, Actually

I’ve always been a little too much. Too loud. Too clumsy. Too awkward. Too… me.

The kind of person who gets food on her her shirt five bites in. Who laughs so hard at something midly inappropriate that it turns into a snort. Who stares blankly during explanations and ends up in the same escape room for a full hour-mentally already escaped, physically very much not. There have been so many moment God, so many where I’ve walked away thinking: Why am I like this? Why can’t I just be polished? cool? graceful? But the truth is, I’ve never been any of those things. I’m chaos. Not destructive, not cruel- just a little feral around the edges. A walking contradiction with big feelings and a tendency to overshare at the exact wrong time. And I used to shrink from that. Used to replay it in my head, mortified. Used to edit myself down so people wouldn’t have to flinch when I walked in. But I’m tired of existing in full volume. Because here’s the truth: The parts I try to hide? They’re the most me of them all. And in the right light, they might even be.. charming. If you can get past the chaos there’s gold in there. Laughter. Softness. Presence. And a weirdly solid moral compass even when i forget the rules half the time. So yeah. I’m chaos. And I’ve decided it’s not something to fix. It’s something to own.