How are you supposed to tell people?  People will give you advice: wait until the right moment, open up slowly, introduce it to them as if they are a small child, maybe just don’t tell them?  All of these are ways that they have dealt with it, but how do you know when it’s your time?

“You can’t!  You aren’t!  I won’t allow it!”

“Mom, there’s literally nothing you can do!  Just leave me alone!”

Are we clay figures, waiting to be sculpted by the world?  If we are, then she has dried, except for the very center, the hardest part to reach.

” You can’t be though; it doesn’t work that way.  You’re too young, you just can’t understand it yet.”

Oh, I think I understand quite well.

“You aren’t me, you don’t know that!”

“But I know you, this is just going to be another phase!  It’s not really who you are.”

“You aren’t me!”

I didn’t realize I had started to yell until I heard my last word reverberate off the kitchen tiles.  Her face was bright red, like I had just slapped her across the face, and I couldn’t handle it anymore.  I sprinted down the hall, and was on the stairs when I heard her call to me, “You’re my daughter, and that’s what you’ll always be!”

Sometimes, it’s just not your time.

I sat on my bed while staring vacantly at the far wall.  Eventually, I began to feel warmth trickling down my cheeks.  As I reached up to swipe away my tears angrily, I heard a knock on my door, and before I had time to ask who it was, my dad swung the door open slowly and walked in.  I sat up quickly, scrubbing my cheeks.

“You know you don’t have to pretend to be something you’re not to get people to like you, right?”

“Umm… yeah?” This isn’t what I was expecting.

“That means that you don’t have to try and be something you’re not t-”

I cut him off and elbowed him out the door, slamming it shut.  I can’t handle this right now.

Am I lying to myself?  Is this…who I am? I don’t actually know anymore…

I began to remove myself from parts of my life, but something I couldn’t escape was myself.  People got curious though, and I eventually crumbled.  I didn’t know how they’d react, but I thought I had a fairly good idea.

I’m disgusting.  They’re going to hate me forever….I already hate myself, so how bad could it be?

“So… what do you want me to call you?”

“Oh, um….Oliver?”

“Yeah, cool! Whatever you’re comfortable with!”

Sometimes, it is you’re time, but you just don’t have your person yet.

I’m who I’m supposed to be, and that’s all I have to be.  And that’s just fine.


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