I sat patiently as the Man Behind the Desk at the Danish consulate in Chicago meticulously checks my documents: 

every last one. 

He checks my address, my fees, paper after paper. In a matter of a few minutes, I would have a verdict: 

either I will be approved to live in Denmark for the next six months, 

or I won’t. 

It was one of those beautifully delicate moments 

my future hung on an invisible string

 depending solely on a few signatures

 and  about thirty pages of paperwork proving

I am who I say I am.

I hear the symphony of voices from all over the world. 

accents that sound like beautiful music

I can only do my best to identify.

 A woman with a throaty French accent sits to my left 

another woman from Chicago traveling to Ghana sits to my right. 

I wonder where they’re going, why they’ve come to get their residence permit. 

All I know is i’m a twenty year old college student from Ohio

twiddling her thumbs and crossing her legs

Watching, waiting, wondering

The Man Behind the Desk was kind, but firm. 

how can someone in his position can carry themselves in such a collected manner?

how many people he approves to start the next chapter of their lives,

and how many people does he send home,

as he lives with the knowledge they have to spend the next months 

Starting over

He asks where I’m from, 

why I am traveling, 

etc. 

He paused for a beat checking the school I’m studying at: 

The Danish School of Media and Journalism.

 “You will be a great journalist” he says.

 His tone is cool;

I have to believe he does not state this as flattery, but rather as an observation. 

“You exude an aura of trust”

I was taken aback by his words, 

the calmness and certainty he spoke them with. 

I could not understand how I could have an aura of trust

When I was only here to get my documents approved.

I looked at him, I thanked him,

 and I meant it.

I sucked in my breath for a while as he stamped my paperwork with a large ink stamp. 

Approved

After months of preparation; I made it. 

I let the breath I had been holding so close to me go.

An aura of trust 

I carried these words with me as I arose from the chair

 as I took the elevator from the eleventh floor to the ground level. 

I carried them as I walked through downtown Chicago,

 taking in the sights and sounds of the city.

 I felt them in the corners of my heart as I took my seat on the train back to the airport, boarded my plane,

 and flew back to Ohio. 

I thought about how trust has quickly become the most important value in the life. 

Because for years, I learned to live without it 

How I did emotional gymnastics, bending and twisting my self to be

 someone who I was not

 I jumped through hoops and climbed mountains for the approval of others 

My inner critic screamed 

over thinker

 because she did not trust my thoughts

She yelled 

too sensitive

 because she did not trust my feelings

As I stepped outside,

I felt the mask I had been painting for myself for years melt off my face, 

and the walls I built around my heart break down, brick by brick. 

My higher self

tells me

Do not be afraid

Because I do not have to be

I do not know much, but I do know the world is teaching me

 to trust. 

 I pondered The Man Behind the Desk’s words, 

And I felt free

I never need to try to be good again because the person who I am already is.

naturally

I cannot change the years I spent living for others’ approval, 

pushing people away because I did not trust that they trusted me

 Or worrying about my past actions or what could go wrong in the future. 

But I can take back my power starting today,

Tomorrow, and forever

As my plane landed, I smiled to myself,

 I know no matter what I do, where I go, or who I meet, 

I will be okay

as long as I lean in, let go, and trust.