In middle school,
I used to love wearing shorts and dancing in front of the mirror.
My mother would smack me.
“How can you cross your legs like that?
Do you not have dick?”
I’m 41 years old.
It’s a frightening number, I know.
But what’s more frightening is that I haven’t accomplished anything worth mentioning.
I struggle every day to cover my expenses.
It might sound easy,
But it’s actually difficult for someone who’s starting from scratch.
social pressure, work
I used to beat up the boys with me in class until primary school.
I was tall,
Had a big belly,
And the boys hadn’t reached puberty yet.
They used to call me the “big girl.”
Are you happy?
Are you as happy as your parents?
Do you love him?
Are you sure you’ll love him forever?
Is there such a thing as loving a person forever?
Am I ugly? Yes, I wasn’t beautiful, or maybe that’s what they wanted me to believe.
I was chubbier than them. I wasn’t good at socializing like them. They made me think I was different.
body image, bullying, school, social pressure, beauty standards