Sometimes I think about my years as a teenager
And I'm incredibly happy
Happy to no longer be under the thumb
Of a cult leader
Who called himself a pastor
I left at seventeen
But found myself in a similarly controlling situation
Shortly thereafter
It really wasn't until a few years later
That I broke out of that pattern
My parents say that when I was a toddler
There was a period when
I refused to take my winter coat off
Even indoors
Even after it got warm outside
There is a weight to the controlled life
When lifted, the freedom is so unfamilar
That it is uncomfortable
So much so that the oppression becomes
A missed warmth when attempting to remove it
Until ripped away
And one realizes the world is warm enough
Without the weight of an unnecessary coat
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