I am not a Cheetah

I read a story, not long ago, about a woman who compared herself to a cheetah in a zoo. She felt trapped, trying to break the cycle of addiction that sadness and lifestyle acceptance had brought upon her. She found herself feeling empathy towards this cheetah. Just like her, this cheetah wanted to be free. This cheetah was supposed to be wild, untamed, and happy. Everything she wanted to be. So she decided to be like a wild cheetah.

Eventually, she found happiness. She found peace and joy in the wilderness of life. She was free and wild and untamed. She was the god damned cheetah. Unfortunately, I am not her. I am not a cheetah.

I was a cheetah once. Once upon a time, long before I understood exactly what I wanted in life, I was wild. I was not always free, but I was untamable. I was vicious, and beautiful, and proud. There I stood, at the top of the food chain. I should have been happy. I had everything. I could do whatever I wanted to. I could have whoever I wanted to. I could be whoever I wanted to. No one dared to challenge me.

I was Queen Cheetah. My name rang in the ears of people hundreds of miles away from where I was. I watched people fight, and die, for just a sliver of my attention. I had power, adoration, and loyalty. My kingdom was mine, and mine alone. Therein lied the problem. I was alone.

Even as I smiled and waved, I broke a little more each day. I know what my people were capable of. I just attracted that kind of crowd. Yes, they were loyal. Yes, they showered me in adoration. Yes, they were mine. None of them though, were capable of the kind of love and attention that I desired.

So one day, without a word, I left my pack. I disabled all communication. I moved to a different city and started going by a different name. I layed low and waited. I waited for my name to fade from history.

I didn’t want to be a cheetah anymore. I didn’t want to be the Bloody Red Queen in battle. I wanted to be an owl. Known for their wisdom. Loved for their tranquility. Respected for their integrity. I no longer wanted to lead history. I wanted to observe it. I wanted to learn from it. I wanted to raise my own owlets so that they could accomplish greater things than I ever could.

Change like this doesn't happen overnight. It’s been years. Many of them were spent trying to figure out exactly how one transfigures from history to a legend. Failed attempts at love. Failed attempts at finding myself. Failed attempts at knowing how to handle the ups and downs of life on my own. It’s okay though. They all helped shape the owl that I have started to become.

I’m not sure if or when this process will end. I’m not sure that I want it to end. I’m not even sure if I’ll stay an owl forever. I do know this though. I am a very happy homebody trying to raise children to bring joy and happiness instead of the destruction that I left in my path. I walk the road ahead of them. Paving the way for them to succeed and planting flowers for them to enjoy along the way.

If someone like me can turn around and find my happily ever after, then there’s still hope left for humanity. I am a mother. I am a wife. I am a friend. I am a god-damned owl. I am not a cheetah.