I am hidden. Behind my mask of uncertainty and fear my true self lies. I am a wallflower. I grow steadily towards the ceiling, stuck alone on pale, cracked plaster that is so paper thin I can hear my own thoughts echo through to the room next to mine. I stand by myself, on the endless line to being noticed. It moves slowly, oh so slowly, I am sure it will never end. It doesn’t – at least not anytime in the near future. I wear a mask. I am at the masquerade ball we call life. People hide behind every kind of lie, and I watch my own lies roll off my tongue so easily that those half-truths must be true. They’re true, right? Wrong. Society has made me wrong. Uniqueness has long been replaced by conformity. I am scared to be myself. Who is the real girl inside me? I wear my mask too often to even know. I look for myself, search my inner soul, but I come up with nothing. Is that what I am, nothing? Am I only my mask? I try to rip it off, tear it apart, but it remains put. On my poor face, hidden by a splash of sameness, my mask remains. Who am I? What have I become? I wish to know, but I am meek against my entire fake life; it overcomes me and taunts me. “Why are you resisting me?” It asks with a smirk. I push it away, somewhere back inside my disguise. What is my favorite color? My favorite song? My most embarrassing moment? I hang my head in shame because I cannot even answer those simple questions. I feel wetness on my cheeks, but I do not brush it away. The tears will wash away the façade I have kept up all these years. I will begin a journey today, I promise myself. To find who I am. I come full circle right now; ruin my years of masquerade, to find who I am. This journey is a not an end. It is just the beginning. The beginning of a whole new me. A me who can have a favorite song and can blast the radio to sing along. A girl who has the top down and has friends (real friends!) to drive around with in the summer time. That girl will be me. I will be myself. My wallflower will throw itself onto the green green grass and sprout up, reaching for the sky, standing on its own. I will be myself. I will jump out of the line that leads to being noticed and be seen on my own. I will be myself. The clock will strike midnight on my masquerade ball, and I will remove my mask. I will be victorious.
January 30, 2011