I am a puzzle that will never be complete or have all its pieces fit. It is not because I am broken - my pieces are always changing. It could take days to change or months, or even years before a piece is changed, maybe ten are removed all at once.

Having those missing pieces, I use to feel that this was wrong, that this is failure. But after reflecting - it makes perfect sense to why. There are pieces of myself that I hate or make me cringe, so I take them out and set them to my right side so even though I am never going to use them again, I can look back on them and remember why I don’t use them anymore. Why they will never fit again to the person I am today.

My left side pile has always been large, my puzzle can only fit a fifty different pieces at once, but there are over a thousand pieces in my pile. Now even if I want a piece to fit - also doesn’t mean it actually will - it can look like it but it will never fit, no matter how I try to place it.

I pick one up an examine it, do I want to be interested in politics - no. I gently place it on the right pile. Before I pick up my next piece, I take a sip of my warm coffee. Looking down at my large left pile and the down at my chest - 25 pieces already used.

My pieces I have now - a mother, caring, nature, sarcastic, workaholic, caring to much, music - specifically the music I grew up with, photography, travel, reading, put others before myself, coffee is a must each day, sleep, resting bitch face - gotta protect myself when needed, big heart, love to cook, love to garden, empathetic, passionate, curious, goal driven, short fuse, anxiety, obsessive, and overprotective.

Now some of these I can’t get rid of, they have been glued in. I cannot remove them even if I wanted to remove them I couldn’t. They are part of me, I wouldn’t be me without them. Even if some are negative or viewed as bad by society these days.

I am a difficult, broken, damaged puzzle by society standards and I am okay with that.

Because I am but a puzzle.