stuck.

"Dress up." You play dress up when you're little, and consciously do it when you're older. It's a game as you dig through the bins of old clothing that have accumulated in your grandmother's spare room, but a tedious effort as you become more aware, more perceptive of those standards.

Those criteria.

Those stares.

Those thoughts.

Those judgments.

Those eyes.

What image shall I portray today?Which vibe do I need to get ahead?How much of myself can I show without becoming too vulnerable a subject?Should I play it safe, or make a statement?

STOP.

But it never really does. We each play dress-up for different reasons. Some to flaunt, others to hide. Some to attract, others to repel. Some to flatter, others to mute.

And each time we think we're finally free -unique-confident-original-secure, we're back. Because each time we think about it, it has us. "It." That thing we become aware of at an increasingly early age. The acute awareness that what we do impacts others. And not only what we do, but how we do it. Because how we do it shows why we're doing it and why we're doing it is what people want to know. What they watch for. What they draw conclusions from. And this matters to us. It's a game we've all become pieces of: some are from Candyland and their biggest concern is losing a turn. Others are from Chutes and Ladders, and they're terrified of falling. A few are from Monopoly, as they plot how large of leaps they are able to make. Then there are those of us who feel more like dice: you get rolled around, and even you don't know what number you'll be. Perhaps you're a 6 today, but then again that would be quite optimistic, and no body likes a blindingly bright personality. So you decide on a solid 4: content yet aware. Then the idea of being a 5 creeps in. You'd like to be a 5, make that improvement, explore a bit. You explore your options, make a decision and take the first step. WALL. You've been blocked by a 1. What would have been a 5 is now half of snake-eyes, and you can feel the doubt creeping in. It fills you, reminding you that becoming a 5 is reserved only for those who know how to play dress-up correctly. Those who understand the rules. Those who have "it." You do not. Your words are wrong. Your look is wrong. Your approach is wrong. YOU ARE WRONG. Dress-up is for those who know how to mask, who know how to morph, who know how to bend to others. You, however, are not flexible. You are the wall, sturdy and secure, but not dressed accordingly.