Illustration by Maria Chamakala

In another life, I am a queen.

In another universe I wrap myself in gossamer gowns and certainty.

In another dimension, I do not even consider the possibility of others not taking me seriously,

And have such an air of majesty about me that no one can mistake me for anything but an empress.

In another life, my voice is thunder, and sends pale men quaking back into the shadows I cast when I stand up tall. I do not shrink myself for the sake of those who are not worthy (of my silence).

In this other universe, every mirror sings out in recognition of my unfailing beauty, but I do not need to listen to know that I am the best thing in every room.

In this other dimension, my very essence demands an insatiable respect that smoulders in your belly like hunger, desperate to prove I am revered by every atom that comprises your being. I rise above you with the grace and strength of a thousand fireflies determined to reach the horizon, never once fearing the sun will extinguish their light.

This other life is warm, and soft, and gentle, and kind, and silk sheets, and bath salts, and candles, and cocoa in the moonlight. It resonates from my skin, breathing life into every moment where I dazzle and I shine and am unstoppable.

This other universe, she calls to me, telling me I am worth more than I think and deserve more than I believe. She cries fresh-water tears over the vulnerability of the life that I lead, and breaks mirrors that whisper insecurities into my ears, pierced like her heart every time I choke down words I could have spoken but for fear.

In another life, I am anything but silent. I am anything but still. I am anything but apologies before I dare to ask a question. I am anything but the girl who feels naked without her doona. I am anything but the woman too afraid to walk alone at night. I am anything but the token female in a business meeting or a classroom.

In the other dimension, I am fire. I am gold. I am sunshine glistening on the snow. I am priceless. I am safety. I am impenetrable and unforgettable. I am my name forged forever into your memory. I am my smile raising hairs on the back of your neck. I am desire burning in your flesh, but untouchable.

In another universe, I am impossible, implausible and undeniable.

In another world, voices tremble as they greet me. Some cross oceans and scale mountains so that they can catch a glimpse of me. I am unheard of, but foretold, a prophecy in the earth itself.

In this other dimension, I am proud to be myself.

Constance Wilde

The author Constance Wilde

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