Some people crave comfort-

I crave expansion.

•••

“Salted Truths + Umami Dialect”

Written by Shelly Moore Caron

•

I’d never ever claim to know everything.

Hell, not even close.

I am every bit as lost as the next person.

But–

I am a perpetual and insatiable student of this existence.

Craving the formation of new brain synapses the way normal people crave…

Oh, I don’t know-

Caffeine, maybe.

Aiming to stretch as many dendritic arms as possible.

•

But she says-

with pity in her tone

and compassion in her eyes-

as she places her hand atop my own-

that I’ve always been ten steps ahead of the crowd.

She tells me it’s a damn lonely place to be-

and lonelier still when the world catches up-

And the cruelest part of the joke comes then.

When enough time has passed,

and they’ve forgotten how

they called me crazy for what they now cling so tightly to.

It’s then too late,

and I want to scream –

I was never crazy.

Just observant.

And early.

Too early.

•

She says I won’t be liked by all,

because I rub people wrong

with my enthusiasm for language,

and patterns,

and knowledge,

and that doesn’t fit into the box

people hold subconsciously as their image of me.

I outgrow stupid, claustrophobic, stranger-imposed boxes

more often than snakes shed their skins –

and it makes people uncomfortable,

because I’m a puzzle,

with mismatched edges,

a billion pieces,

and time-worn illustrations.

•

She says the way I speak-

so directly,

so sharp-tongued,

isn’t welcomed by most.

She says it feels abrasive.

People want marshmallow fluff-wrapped sentence structure,

and sugarcoated misrepresentations.

But I’m unable to provide such false sweetness.

My teeth would ache and my gut would never forgive me.

I’ve tried.

Artificial sweeteners give me migraines.

And they feel like lies.

I can only speak the savory–

salted truths and umami dialect.

She says it’s because my mind is open and brilliant,

wired differently-

expansive and insatiable,

constellationable,

and while I’d never claim to know it all,

because what a ridiculous claim that would be,

(and for some reason I still care what people think of me-)

I’m acutely aware I’ve catalogued quite a lot.

How could I not?

It is how I am built –

and there’s so much to learn.

•

What a bore life would be,

to stay so rigid you refuse to stray from your lane

in order to experience more.

And more.

And more.

•

She says it’ll be okay.

She says one day I’ll attract my tribe-

as long as I keep living authentically.

Which, she assures me, is exactly how I live already-

without trying.

But I tell her-

with tears in my eyes,

locked and loaded,

ready to fall onto warm cheeks,

how it sure feels the opposite.

I say to her-

You see,

each time I let myself shine a little brighter–

allow the dial to move ever so slightly-

turning the volume up ever so carefully on my existence-

allowing more circuits to come online and out of hiding-

I feel the immediate pushback from those around me-

made uncomfortable by my inability

to keep my arms and legs

inside the damn box 

at all times

during this ride –

like a good little girl.

And it hurts.

•••