Alter Ego

By Colleen Carey

This is the inaugural blog by the woman in the black hat.

She sits in my writing room wearing a black hat with a faded red rose. I peek in. I wish I could be her. But I fear her.

See, she’s mouthy. She says exactly what she thinks, like she has no filter. Me, I conform to society’s standards, because I don’t want to offend anyone. People have been hurt enough. They don’t need one more loud-mouthed brazen bitch saying exactly what she thinks.

She’s brazen.

I fear her.

I crave her.

If I could just peel this skin off, I could be her. It’s not even my skin. It’s this outer skin I’ve grown that’s more like an alien raincoat than part of my body. It hides me more than protects me.

No. That’s untrue… That’s wrong. That’s what she would say. I’d say, “Ooh, that’s slightly inaccurate.” She don’t pull no punches. “No. That’s wrong,” she’d say.

Where was I? Oh, this outer skin. It hides me more than protects me.

But that’s a lie. It protects me by hiding me. You can only be wounded so much before you start to hide.

But there’s another solution! Ha ha! I laugh maniacally (which is probably the me the world wishes would hide. You know what? Too bad.)

But here’s the solution. I can grow stronger inside. Then it breaks through the boundaries like a beast bursting its shell!

Ha ha! I’m free! I’m me! Here I am, world!

Here, am I, Lord.

I’m free.

I am, finally, the woman in the black hat. Perhaps, today…  Today, I will by her a new rose for her hat.