My life thus far has been permeated with self-doubt. Even after 30 years, even the smallest success still comes as a surprise. When I say it that way it sounds modest; absolutely appropriate for a ‘nice girl’ like me. To expect great things for and from myself would surely be unthinkable. What more could I want besides the aesthetically perfect life which is offered to me again and again? Albeit the package is slightly different each time, but the product is always the same. And the price? Concede, comply, conform.

Though my lifestyle is a far cry from luxurious most of the time, having spent the majority of my life surrounded by material comfort, the thought of being without for the remainder is deeply unsettling. That being said, I couldn’t be more certain that I would choose this form of misery than that of a life of being ‘appropriate’.

Ironically, I’m confident that I would have no desire to rebel, revolt, disagree or disrupt a world that is loving, peaceful and harmonious. These urges arise only a result of the shackles that are placed upon us without our consent, at a time when we are too weak and vulnerable to resist their force, and the injustice committed whilst we are handicapped.

There aren’t many days like today. Today I believe I can have both. Freedom from the shackles, and enough strength to fight any future attempt to chain me down. As well as the material comfort and luxury that I seek. No doubt, materials themselves do bring some momentary joy, but their real value for me is their association with a sense of security. To feel both safe and free is something I can’t imagine. But I believe that with work, focussed attention and most importantly, a true commitment to myself, I can achieve it.

I’ll come back to this on the days where I’m lacking that belief, and remind myself of Maya Angelou’s words. Sure enough, as I write this the belief is already fading.