The world handed you a costume the day you were born and called it your name.
Daughter. Son. Smart one. Difficult one. Too quiet. Too loud. Too much. Not enough.
You wore it. Of course you wore it. Everyone does.
But somewhere in the middle of building a life you didn't choose, you noticed how heavy it was. How tight. How little of you was left underneath all of that fabric.
Eryah means nakedness.
Not the kind that asks to be looked at. The kind that refuses to be covered. The kind that says: every label you put on me, I will take off. Every cage you built me, I will walk out of. Every opinion you have about who I'm supposed to be, I will outgrow before you finish the sentence.
Discipline is the only thing I'll wear.
Purpose is the only thing I'll answer to.
The path I'm walking, I built.
If you've ever felt the weight of the costume — this is yours.
— Anyah & Jerry