I’m still looking for my superpower.
I know a man who has found his superpower.
I live with Atlas, the man who holds up the sky. He bears the weight of the world on his shoulders but never shrugs or shirks or shrinks away from the challenges ahead of us. It is in his arms alone that I feel I’m home and even though his hands are rough his touch has such a gentleness that I can’t help but wonder how the legend of Atlas never told the world the most important part: if Atlas had been loved, to hold up the sky would not have been a punishment, but the only option. Sometimes strength hides the true power behind our actions.
Imagine what the world could be if we all found our superpower.
Imagine what the world could be if we took less and gave more, appreciated people, didn’t take things that belonged to others, spent more time doing the things we love, spent less time procrastinating, and ignored the safe option when adventure called. What if we loved more, picked forgiveness instead of revenge, gave second chances, and created not just opportunity, but the notion of possibility.
What could a woman do with a super power in this world?
Would she focus on the little things, consumed by the aesthetics of her life? Or would she too become an Atlas, a Nüwa? Would she rebuild the pillars that hold up the sky, and ease the burden for Atlas, showing strength not just through physicality but through mental fortitude, resilience, ingenuity and the creation of hope?
I wish my super power were touch.
Through my touch I could change the world. I would ease burdens and soothe pain. For how else do we show compassion and empathy but through our hands, as we take the weight from those who struggle and shoulder it ourselves? In moments of pain we are feather-light strokes of reassurance and strong, bruising grips of solidarity and support. I could don the robes of Justice and deliver consequence, hard fists of bone and judgement to those who have taken more than they have created and caused more pain than they could ever balance on my scales. I could love like no other. I would memorise the face of Atlas through touch alone. Every scar would be a story, and the narrative would be immortalised in memory. My touch would raise you up and we would stand together, friends and allies under a sky that we ultimately all hold up together.