AN ELEPHANT IN A ROOM

Picture this:

There’s an elephant in a room. 

The room is well-appointed. There are silk drapes and overstuffed chairs and marble-topped tables and hors d’oeuvres being passed around on intricate silver platters. 

There are people milling about, sitting in the chairs and eating the hors d'oeuvres and making polite conversation by the silk-draped windows and laughing on cue at mediocre jokes.

The elephant is there, trying to fit in. 

But no one is paying attention to the elephant.

Because of course they’re not. It’s an elephant. In a room. 

It’s weird. 

So the elephant stays out of the way, hiding in a shadowy corner, and the people continue on normally as people do. 

Everyone is fine ignoring the elephant. 

Everyone except for one.

The one being you. 

You cannot ignore the elephant in the room, try as you might. 

Because…

You are the elephant. 

Huge and powerful and hulking, trying to mingle with polite society in a well-appointed room. 

It’s weird. 

And you know it. 

Because you, my friend, are wild.