There is a fire raging in me that I cannot extinguish. Until now, that merciless fire was a curse, a constant reminder that something about me was....irregular (It’s quite unbecoming that seeing what’s more than on the surface makes one irregular in our society). As a child, this confusion led to many reckless escapades and the gradual understanding that, no matter how hard I tried, I could not view things the way others did.

Even as a child, I had an irrepressible thirst for knowledge and adventure. Being acknowledged as someone special was important to me, but it soon became clear to me that I was not having fun for myself – I developed a vague understanding that one must give happiness to receive it.

The anger that took over (the fire I suppose) when I saw someone unhappy ate at my nerves, and I made it my goal, by the 3rd grade, to make everyone happy. My mentality has always been that I can do anything if I try hard enough; this way of thinking is my biggest strength...and weakness.

I was warned by various people that no good could come from such a goal, but I was, and still am, extremely stubborn. If I wanted it to happen, it would happen. That explains why I was beyond crushed when I was ridiculed by so many for being kind. Evidently, I could not hang with anyone of my choosing and be an honor student at the same time; I could not freely speak my mind and talk for hours. Someone made individuality a bad thing and forgot to tell me.

Due to the fact that I really did love everybody and was sure that everybody loved me, I was utterly confused when a girl I was randomly partnered with pushed me in front of the class when the teacher was not looking.

After getting everyone’s attention she screamed at me, “Shut up you weirdo. Don’t you understand; nobody cares what you have to say.”

That day the fire inside of me was calmed down by my tears.

‘Why didn’t anyone help me?’ I wondered. ‘Why is everyone laughing?’

It was the mere thought that I hadn’t made a difference in anyone’s life that kept me silent after that event. Sure, I still talked, but I watched my words carefully to make sure I didn’t ‘mess up’ again. I had never cared so much about being humiliated in my life.

By the 8th grade, I had grown a strong hatred of the world and everyone in it. My fire had come back full force, except this time I had every intention to burn anyone who got too close. Fortunately, I could not keep up this charade forever. As much as I hated myself for it, I still loved everybody, even those I greatly despised.

Everything I do – from volunteering any where I can to befriending those who need love the most – is a way for me to show my infatuation for everybody in this world.

Nothing matters more to me than seeing a smile on somebody’s face because of something I’ve done. I only ask that people heed my message well because there really is no greater pleasure than making a difference, no matter how trivial you think that difference may be.