Unedited and raw emotions

The desire to express myself through written words seems to have taken over these past few days. Like a spewing fountain of thoughts and emotions I spend my time trying to hold it back, hold it in this small black cave full of other longings and desires from the past.
How often do I cower away from things because I am afraid to really express myself for the consequences that seem inevitable. Those fears that seem to haunt me and control my life need to be broken. I have to stand in front of them exposed for who I really am and screaming for freedom. To embrace the emotions and feelings that come with words spoken. The void that so often gets abused and consumed with words harsh and nasty. To speak life into that black cave and allow the walls to be painted with new symbols. A new story to trace along the curves and bumps of the rubble.
What new song would I sing? Story would I write?
One of a woman confident beyond physical beauty. Head high and boldly convinced that her Lord was more than enough. No man, women, or object could even deter her from holding her God above all else. People from all around would hear her tales of bravery and boldness and strive to pursue the same goals and dreams she stands for. No, this would not be an ordinary woman. This woman would be different.
You may ask for some examples of what I mean by different but without first sugar coating it let me give a few examples of what normal would be.
Woman A
This is the closest to different that I can get. This woman is a woman that strives to know what she is living for. She dreams big dreams and achieves unbelievable goals but the whole time she longs for companionship. She knows that there is something more to life than just what she sees physically and as her heart is being tugged between the material world and the spiritual world she battles with feeling worthy of love and acceptance. Her response to this battle is to try harder and harder. Whether that be win more praise from man or more prestige from society she hides behind this mask of perfection and is praised for it.
Woman B
Like Woman A she is the closest to different that I can get. She wouldn’t stand out in a crowd but rather has a quite confidence that gets overlooked. She tries to live morally and with integrity but in a world that despises both is looked at as less than Woman A. Nothing about her physically would draw attention to the human eye but there is still a beauty that lay beneath. The mask placed on her to hide the rejection and brutality that was handed her from mere mortal man.
Woman C
This is a woman that received praise and prestige her whole life. Eyes turn when she walks into the room. Woman A and B long to be her. They torture themselves to be in her shoes while she struggles to sleep at night because she feels worthless and empty inside. No one wants to know her for her. They make her an icon, a standard to measure up to. Her slim figure never fails to be the apple of others eyes. Both sexes longing for what she has. She cries out but only gets a response of hatred and bitterness from others. Unbelief that she could possible be in pain seems to torture her. That one would find her intelligent or compassionate hides as a dream trapped in a genie bottle. So because the world demands it of her she sorrowfully places the mask of performs on and walks around pretending to have it all together only receiving the same praise that the mask demands.

These women all wear masks. One of perfection and praise, one of rejection and brutality, and one of performance. They all play there part for the same reason, acceptance and adoration. They hold tighter and tighter to their mask only to find that it never brings them completely happiness. For a season they believe it does but with one word, look or emotion their mask melts away and all that is left is a child longing to be loved and known for who she really is. A woman! Accepted for all the flaws and awkward shaped parts. Her thighs may be larger than others or smaller than others. Her breast may be gigantic or they may be unable to be seen. Her teeth may have stains or they may be completely straight. Her laugh may be loud or soft. But her height, her hair, her eyes, her nose, her feet, her hands, her ears, her skin, and even her intelligence will not considered when finally the mask melts away. All that is left is a soul and a desire to know that each of these women are worthy and lovely.