I always thought life was simple. Wake up, Work, Eat and Sleep as simple as that. But tonight as I stared up at the peeling paint on my ceiling, I felt something deeper. A hollow feeling like there's more of me I have never unravelled nor touched.
Granny used to say, "my dear everyone has 10 layers and most never go past the third". It was in this moment I understood her words.
I closed my eyes and imagined my self pulling back those layers, like an onion.
First layer: I am worker
Second: I am a daughter
Third: I am a friend
By the seventh I was sweating, the dreams I buried, the words I never said, the day I gave up on Arts to please my Dad.
Eight layer: My fear of being ordinary
The ninth: regret , so much regret
Then the tenth layer, I expected it would be dark, but it was still and quiet. It was My strength and I heard my granny's soft voice, "It's not too late".
I opened my eyes, the room still looked the same but I wasn't. Sometimes you have to go deeper to remember who you are