Prisha Khimavat

A life spent behind a glass wall

Connected and yet disconnected

Each day spent in longing

In imitation

Every second I try harder

To be just like my captors

I speak like them

I dress like them

I act like them

I do what they want

In hopes that I can connect

In hopes that I can be happy

But every try is frowned upon

Every attempt laughed at

The insults stain my glass walls

And soon they obscure my view

I can’t see my prosecutors

And they can’t see me

And there in the loneliness

With no one to imitate

I decide to see

What it feels like to just be me

And so trapped in there alone

I let all of it go.

I speak how I want to.

I dress how I want to.

I act how I want to.

The second I embrace my self

The glass walls shatter.

As everyone turns to look

Their mouths drop open

And as they stand there frozen,

I rise from the rubble.

I walk out with my head held high

Because now I’m free

Free to be me.

Glass Walls are objects that enable us to see the world around use, but through a lens that make is seem like the grass is greener on the other side. They distort the view, until we think of ourselves as worthless.

My life has many Glass Walls, but two in particular are the screens with which I connect with the world, and the mirror which I use to define my self worth. Every day I struggle with trying to figure out who I am, and to what degree the things I am doing are an attempt to please someone else. It’s not something that can be solved over night. It’s an uphill battle. There are some of the walls that slow me down. There are my Glass Walls. What are yours?

~ Prisha Khimavat~