The obedient one.
Raised to believe that doing what I was told would eventually pay off in my favor.
You won’t have a choice now but, freedom will taste so good later.
You won’t have a choice now but, freedom will taste so good later.
I had the occasional slip up here and there. A growing child isn’t perfect.
But I was damn sure close, and I knew it would be worth it.
But I was damn sure close, and I knew it would be worth it.
So, I obeyed.
"Get good grades, always tell me where you’re at.
Respect your elders, when someone says hello – you say hello back."
Respect your elders, when someone says hello – you say hello back."
Don’t express opposing feelings, its disrespectful. Stop crying, tears are weak.
So was born the persona I’ve come to hate. Obedient, afraid, respectful, and meek.
So was born the persona I’ve come to hate. Obedient, afraid, respectful, and meek.
Then I was free.
Grown enough to break the chains of compliance.
Finally allotted the space to be myself, free of being punished for defiance.
Finally allotted the space to be myself, free of being punished for defiance.
Conditioned enough to remain exactly the same.
Stuck in the same programmed patterns, designed to drive me insane.
Stuck in the same programmed patterns, designed to drive me insane.
Is it really freedom?
I’ve always been who I needed to be and done what I was supposed to do.
Until I realized the stress this level of perfection put me through.
Until I realized the stress this level of perfection put me through.
I knew, deep down, my submission was merely a mask.
But I never knew who I was or wanted to be, and no one ever bothered to ask.
But I never knew who I was or wanted to be, and no one ever bothered to ask.
Now there’s tension in the room.
The person everyone knew is long gone and the real me is here to stay.
But since they’ve never met this person, no one has any idea what to say.
But since they’ve never met this person, no one has any idea what to say.
The real me is more selfish and it only gets worse as I age.
They cannot seem to accept this; they all just think I’ve changed.
They cannot seem to accept this; they all just think I’ve changed.