When I was a child, society taught me how to be loved: I had to act a certain way, Pick a certain job, Look a certain way, Believe certain things, And always give to everyone, Laying down my life for others, Taking the smaller half of a shared piece of cake, And being totally intolerant of anything and anyone that deviates from the acceptable norm, Even to the point of self-loathing When I did not conform   But love must be freely given to be love, So if I am changing who I am or altering how I act Or choosing a certain look, occupation, or belief, To make someone love me, I am not really being loved, I am manipulating people into demonstrating affection For an effigy that isn’t really me   And I think maybe it takes great faith to be yourself And trust that love will come to you anyway, If you choose to do what makes your heart sing, And to express your authentic inner soul   What a strange and inexplicable world we live in Because there is no truth in “If I’m good, they...