All I am is someone who doesn’t know what they’re doing. Everyone expects me to do something–anything, no… everything.
How do you expect me to be a perfect student, a perfect daughter, a perfect child, and a perfect friend? All this perfection is enough to drive anyone crazy.
Yet I pull through. You know why?
I put on so many costumes and so many masks to hide what I really feel. What you see in me is not what I am.
I want to be able to cry like a normal person. I want to have a life like a normal person. I want to be able to do everything like a normal person because perfection is suffocating.
I should be able to cry. I should be able to make mistakes. But would you accept me?
You think it’s easy to be me, but it’s not. I wish you would still accept me if I’m imperfect–the real me.
I’m only a girl in a silly red sheet…
…pretending to be super when she’s not.