I did not want to choose, but they made me. Society rendered my original preference unacceptable so I had to do what I’ve got to do. I settled. I chose to pursue the scalpel.
They say that in order to finally yield your weapon of choice, in my case the scalpel, you would have to be the best. You would have to be the first. You would have to get ahead. That’s what I attempted to do and that’s what got me here.
The race was tough, and having all sorts of baggage did not help. I couldn’t leave all of my dreams to pursue just one; I had to take all of them with me. Despite bearing the extra weight, I was able to do as they say – get ahead.
Eventually, I felt the weight bearing on my shoulders, and I started to lag behind. If I wanted to keep my place, I knew what I had to do; I had to let go.
One at a time I let go of them. The first thing I dropped was my dream of becoming an artist. I stopped drawing, did not even try painting, but it was okay. They say I wouldn’t be able to support myself through making art anyway.
Then down came my dream of becoming a writer. If I were to become a doctor, I’d be too busy attending to patients. I would be writing, yes, but most of it will be “in the box”. I stopped writing my poems and quit sharing my stories. I had no choice, or so I thought.
Finally it’s time. Time to drop the most precious among my possessions – my dream of becoming a musician. I had no time, no resources, and that broke my heart. I cried until my eyes were as dry as the desert. I bled, till there was no vitality left.
Apparently I was not alone. For the longest time people have been dropping their dreams just to stay in the race. As I listened to the stories of other members of my cohort, I was able to see. Like them, there was a void in me – a void that sucks. Literally.
The farther I went, the more I realized – the world is too big for me to focus on one thing for the rest of my life. There are a lot of visions to see, melodies to hear, scents to get whiffs of, flavors to savour, and textures to stroke. I have said yes to one, but this cost me everything else. Is it really worth it?
At this point my baggage are gone. I’m supposed to feel as light as a feather, but you know what? I don’t.
Then I realize. I wasn’t bearing the weight of my dreams. I was simply bearing the weight of going against my nature. No matter how many dreams I have, I will bear the same weight. Not until I embrace who I am.
I stop. I pause. I observe.
I see most people attempting to follow the path society have lain in front of them. I tried to do the same, but I just can’t. I’m divergent and I’ll embrace it.
I’ll make and follow my own path. I’ll make my own weapon, and help others do the same. I don’t care how long it would take; we’ll all reach the finish line anyway.
I’m divergent and I embrace it.
This is a response to the original post Divergent by The Letter Thief originally published here
By Karla Mae Cruzado