Today of all days is the day I lost it. As usual I was already close to being done with life but there isn’t anything major or minor enough to tip me over the edge.
I’m never good at speaking up and saying how I feel and why I feel it.
It just turns into a whole ordeal and I get frustrated and done with everything.. I can’t even say what I mean by done with everything. I don’t mean wanting to kill myself, but just being done with life. Wanting to go sit in the dark, alone. But still wanting or hoping for someone to care and ask what’s wrong. To hold me when I need it, or push me when I need to be pushed.
Someone who will challenge me, but still stand up for me.
I’m tired of doing the same things over and over day in and day out. Being told what to do, and what not to do. Being told my feelings aren’t important because they’re ‘childish’.
That although I’m an adult I’m still a child. I wouldn’t survive on my own because I let my emotions get in the way every now and then.
I’m not super human. I can’t just flip a switch and become someone else. My emotions are a big part of me. They make me part of who I am. I may break down every blue moon but at least I care. I have feelings. A heart. At least I’m a fully functioning human.
I used to think I was pretty. That was back when I had my hair. I cut it off because I wanted to. I thought I would look better. I did. for a while. But that seemed to only be my opinion. Strangers on the internet who want nudes say I’m pretty. But people in my community don’t. I get ignored or stared at. Some little kids even laughed at me today. Girls can’t have short hair. They’re either lesbian or transgender. I can’t change these stereotypes. But I realize I wasn’t ready to face them. It’s been a few months. One or two. I thought it would grow back a little faster than it is. But one can only hope.
My brother ditched me to play one on one with some guy. A guy I found attractive. A guy I wouldn’t have any chance with. His hair was curly, the type of curls I wished for. He wasn’t tall but he wasn’t short either. I found myself smiling when he came over, that was before he completely ignored my existence and asked my brother, who was out with me, to play. As if I wouldn’t want to. Or wouldn’t be able to even try. So I’m a girl, but people treat me as if I’m a boy until it’s time to do boy things. Then I’m back to being an unimportant object.
I’m a girl when it comes to guys wanting me for my body. But as a person? I’m nothing. I’m looked at and avoided like some plague. Like some boy who wishes to be a girl. But that’s not even the case. I’m a girl. I was born a girl. with a girls body, with a girls mind. I’ve been a girl my entire life. So why is it so hard to actually be a girl. I can wear all black and no one will bat an eye. But I put on all pink and everyone stares. I’m 18 but I look 12. People tell me how lucky I am, but I can’t stand my own face. I want to be treated like an adult, like a girl. like a woman. I’m tired of hiding behind that leg that was always there to protect us. I want to be able to go out and finally be.
I came here to say one thing and I go on about another.
My life. sucks. But i’m the only one who thinks so.
Loading comments...