Imagen de mi autoría generada con ChatGPTToda la vida me dijeron cómo caminar.
Derechito, con paso firme, sin mirar para los lados, que no te ensucies, que no te salgas del renglón, y yo, por no decepcionar, me puse los zapatos que me dieron.
¿Me apretaban?, sí, pero aprendía no quejarme. Caminé con ellos durante años, los limpiaba, les sacaba brillo, los cuidaba, hasta les cogí cariño. Pero cada vez que hacia un recorrido largo, algo me dolía.
Estudié lo que me dijeron, trabajé donde debía, fui “alguien”, pero había algo... como una piedrita en el zapato. A veces pensaba que el problema era yo, que era flojera, que no sabía agradecer, pero no, era otra cosa, era eso que se piensa, se siente, pero no se dice: aquí no pertenezco.
Una tarde cualquiera, lo decidí, y sin drama me los quité, así, sin más, y me fui caminando descalzo.
El primer paso me dolió y el segundo también, pero el tercero... el tercero me regaló la libertad. Al final me di cuenta que no era que yo no sirviera para caminar, era que esos zapatos no eran para mí.
Desde entonces camino con los pies sucios, pero ligeros, y cada vez que me preguntan por qué dejé el camino bonito, seguro y recto, les digo que yo no nací para caminar en los zapatos de otro.
Nací para andar donde pueda ser yo.
Si quieres participar en este contenido
Invito a: @alicia2022 @osomar357 @ungrancuento
🇬🇧 English Version
Image of my own generated with ChatGPTAll my life they told me how to walk. Straight, with a firm step, without looking to the sides, not to get dirty, not to stray from the line, and I, so as not to disappoint, put on the shoes they gave me. Were they tight? Yes, but I learned not to complain. I walked in them for years, cleaning them, polishing them, taking care of them, even growing fond of them. But every time I went on a long journey, something hurt. I studied what they told me, I worked where I should, I was "someone," but there was something... like a pebble in my shoe. Sometimes I thought the problem was me, that I was lazy, that I didn't know how to be grateful, but no, it was something else, it was that thing you think, feel, but don't say: I don't belong here. One random afternoon, I decided, and without drama, I took them off, just like that, and I walked barefoot. The first step hurt, and the second too, but the third... the third gave me freedom. In the end, I realized it wasn't that I wasn't good at walking, it was that those shoes weren't for me. Since then, I walk with dirty but light feet, and every time they ask me why I left the beautiful, safe, and straight path, I tell them I wasn't born to walk in someone else's shoes. I was born to walk where I can be myself. If you want to participate in this content I invite: @alicia2022 @osomar357 @ungrancuento
