I’ve always wanted to be extraordinary. When I was younger I had the dream of being a princess and using my voice to change the world or becoming a superhero and doing the same exact thing. I’ve always had an opinionated mind but my voice was always ignored or my neck was stepped on by the boots of those who wanted to oppress my perspectives. We live in a world where women will always be inferior and will constantly be undervalued and ignored. We will never be as strong as men and yet we will always fight harder than them to get what we want because we have to. I’ve always dreamed of being someone big. I want to work hard enough to give my mom the life she deserves and make my family comfortable after years and years of work and stress.
I’ve been lost lately. I feel like I don’t know who I am anymore and I’ve lost touch with who I used to be and I’m nowhere near who I want to be. I know this is superficial but I want to be beautiful. Not for anyone but for me. I want to embrace my natural curls and have a tinier stomach and straight teeth so that I can accept myself. I doubt that my appearance will help me fix my inner issues with my body but maybe it’ll help. Maybe the beauty I know I have on the inside will finally move forward and everyone can see it on the outside. I want to be able to love myself so that I can love others the way it’s meant to be but I fear that I’m broken. I fear that I’m stuck in this dark quicksand and I can’t find a way to get out. I can’t see anyone around me and my insides feel like they aren’t working. My heart is still pumping but it’s only for survival. It used to best for others. It used to be for me. Now it beats because it has to. But slowly my insides are being consumed by the sadness and the confusion and I feel like they’re breaking slowly. I want to move on but I’m scared that I can’t.
I’m scared that I will try and fail. Another fear. How many is that? Three fears so far? You’re already learning a lot about me. Failure is my biggest fear. With my impractical majors, the kind of society we’re in, and the dependence I have on my dreams… if I fail I don’t know what I’ll do. So you see, I’m positive, intelligent, and supportive but my fears have their claws wrapped around my throat, arms, and legs. I can’t move. I’m in this quicksand and I feel these claws on me and I can’t fight it or I’ll fall faster into the darkness. Yet, if I don’t fight I’ll be pulled into the darkness anyway. Either way I’m lost. I’m broken. I’m confused. Do I die as a warrior or as a coward that was easily manipulated? When you hear that question, the answer seems obvious. You want to be the warrior. But are you capable of it? Or do you just think you are? We can’t all be warriors and I’ve made my decision.