I want my identity to come to me, willingly and with certainty. I don’t want to follow her around, satisfied with merely being in her presence, accepting that I will never attain her. I don’t want to make her want me, to dress up for her or pretend to be someone I’m not in order to fit in with her. I don’t want her to expect me to be someone else. I want her to choose me not because of how I look but based on how I am to live as one’s true identity is not based on appearance but on arrival and I’m not there yet.

I don’t want my identity placed in my lap or spoon- fed to me as if I am not capable of possessing her without losing some of her. But, I also don’t want to work for it or at it. Coming into being is not earned; it is awakened. I don’t want to scare her as my screaming restlessness cannot be confused with an alarm clock. I want her to come to me freely, naturally and fully awake.

I don’t want who I am to be rushed. I don’t want to grab the first word that comes along and take it into me. Race may be a good deal because it requires no real work or self- investment but for me, it still feels forced. I’m choosing but it’s from a list that has already been chosen. And I don’t want to choose from the world’s favorites, specials or “oldies but goodies.” I want my own. I want her to make her own way.

I don’t want the cheapest, fastest, easiest identity. I don’t want her to come from a box. I don’t want to exist in a box. I don’t want to be confined to a box, summed up by a check in a box. I want her to take her time, arriving only when she is ready and when she possesses all that I was created to be. I want none of me to be left out because I was impatient or prideful or ignorant. I want her to come to me in her own time.

I will not search for her because she is not lost. She needs no directions, no guidance. I am not lost.

I want her to come to me without interference or interpretation. I want her to speak to me clearly and without interruption. Though race attempts to lose her in translation, she keeps talking to me. I can make out what she is saying when I can make out what she is seeing in me.

I don’t want my identity to come to me in response to anything that has been said or done. I am an expression, a word from the lips of God not an experience. I want her to come for me and only me. I want her to be present with me.

I don’t want anyone to point my identity out to me or push her towards me. Don’t force her as this relationship takes time. I want her to come to me, certain and satisfied that I am the one.