I can’t tell stories

I can’t tell stories.
I can’t write stories.
Certainly not about me.

Not good enough.
Who am I to share my truth?
Because it’s not THE truth;
it is MY truth.
Still…
That desire…
It’s there.

Just be me.
I always knew it was possible.
That there would be a time when
I would dare.
It doesn’t matter if I or you think otherwise.
Just because you are you
and I am me.

That I may think and feel differently tomorrow —
that is allowed.
Just because I am me.
Because I am free.
Because I choose.
That to be.

And that’s now.
I have unveiled it.
Untangled.
Healed.
I understand why,
the safety behind it.
It is forgiven.

It’s okay,
And even wherever it doesn’t feel that way yet, it’s okay.
Love for me.
Heals.