They entered the room.

I entered a role.

My voice changed.

My pace shifted.

My answers explained.

That’s the part I want to deny.

That I still play a role.

Not to deceive.

To belong.

Or to prove.

I don’t need to.

That’s my most common version

the performance for independence.

You don’t control me.

At least I tell myself that.

My external actions seem to support that.

I change my internal orientation when you walk in.

Which means you do control me.

Or at least I am allowing you to.

I soften or sharpen the truth

based on how it will land with you.

Based on how I think it will land with you.

I am anticipating.

I am predicting the future.

I’ve practiced that script

longer than I’ve practiced presence.

Longer than providing space.

That’s the player.

Not the person.

The pattern activated.

I want to notice who I keep becoming,

then decide on purpose

if that version of me

still belongs in my space

in this place.