10 years ago I was a quiet sixth grader. I ate my vegetables and stood straight, learned my place. Slowly got rid of my East Coast accent through compulsory church choir on Sundays. Could never figure out how to keep the tears inside.
5 years ago I was the new girl in Junior Year who hung out with the alt rocker partiers before Physics class, who found my real niche months later with the artsy types who sang songs from musicals. I thought I wanted to pursue Computer Science and Political Science and Journalism. But I really liked video editing because it used all the parts of my brain that were separate for so long, and I stuck close to it. I was afraid to get out of line. I had yet to have my first kiss.
Last year, I was a perfectionist. I wanted a job, a perfect relationship, best friends who care for me, better grades, recognition for my hard work, and a creative outlet that would get me jobs post-grad. But I wasn’t willing to risk it for the biscuit. I wanted that #curated #artho #life without realizing what it took. I got sucked into the social media hive-mind mentality and lost myself through the cracks. I took too long in finding the words to stand up for myself. I thought being free to make my own choice was basically the same thing as making one.
Today, I am okay with the quiet. I can look back and see my growth. I want to put my all into writing and storytelling and developing my voice. I want to work hard and feel it burn up my body but not give up. I’m happy with following orders for now but silently planning for the day I answer to myself.
I still cry when I’m feeling anxious, and I won’t let a perfectly fine vegetable hit the trash can. But I’ll stay up past my bedtime to work on my own projects and feel it.