Whispered to an Egg
I came upon an egg. I had to hold her.
Mary — I wish that were my real name. #eggmode
You can be, Mary.
I might argue that you already are; that you need only give up the pretence, drop the mask, step into the light.
Mary, I might argue, is your real name.
(That ‘only’ is, of course, nonsense — )
It’ll require effort and risk. But so does living undercover and postponing life. Maybe dropping the mask is actually less effort, over less time. Maybe the risk is less — less than giving up your life.
Maybe it won’t be so hard. Maybe it’s not such a big change. Maybe it’s only taking the next step: each step a lightening of the hiding. Each step an increment of relief, a little reveal—
Mary, a little more alive.
Maybe all you need do is catch that first glimpse of Mary in the mirror, and all the other steps take themselves.
Mary, you’ve got this.