March 30, 2016

I am Unconventional. {Poem}


Some of us were born free.

Born different.

We tirelessly spend our entire lives trying to fit ourselves into this standard mold, which we are groomed to believe should be an effortless process. We are told to be a more conventional woman or a more textbook kind of man.

We let pieces of ourselves fall between the cracks and get brushed under the rug through our sad attempts at normalcy. We crave to feel accepted. We crave it so much that we sometimes forget about our own needs. The need we have to be free. The need we have to be ourselves—which is something different, something peculiar and something special.

Conventionality is a beautiful thing. The world needs conventional people—the realists. The people who follow the instructions and leave little to chance. The people who have their sh*t together. We need these people because they get sh*t done. They do it the way it is supposed to be done. They follow directions and do as they are told. They don’t go beyond the “Do Not Enter” signs, always abiding by the rules.

But the world also needs the realists’ counterpart. The messy ones of society. The adventurers and discoverers. The people who do things their own eccentric way. The people who aren’t afraid to fail by trying things in a new way or looking at things in a new light. The wild souls who are intrigued by those signs and say “Why can’t I enter?” as they shimmy under the fence.

Society needs us too, because we are unique and beautiful in our own unconventional way.


I am unconventional

A free spirit

A wanderer.

A woman with big dreams,

And a lover of most all things.


My space and thoughts are a bit scattered,

But isn’t it what’s in my heart that truly matters?

My dreams oftentimes run wild and free,

And my worst enemy will always be me.


I am unconventional

A free thinker,

A gypsy soul.

I do things my own peculiar way,

And if you try to change me, I must warn you—I will stray.

I can’t promise I will always make sense.

But I promise that once I am gone, my presence will be missed.


I am unconventional

A woman of independent nature.

The kind that always puts her responsibilities off until later.

I was blessed by my Lord with a big heart,

But it constantly seems to be torn apart.

I am unconventional

At times, painfully forgetful.

My thoughts sometimes flawed—irrational.


I mess up a hundred times a day

And it seems some things will never go my way

I’m sure I will provide your patience a test,

But at least I can say that I am doing my best.

I am unconventional

A black sheep,

A hopeless wanderer.

So come and run wild with me,

Or let me stay free.


Author: Emily Cutshaw

Editor: Caitlin Oriel 

Image: Edu Lauton/Unsplash

Read 1 Comment and Reply

Read 1 comment and reply

Top Contributors Latest

Emily Cutshaw  |  Contribution: 8,145