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Being Me

By , city, United States
I’m not the spitting image of my parents. I have visible features that resemble them, small traits in my words that reflect their minds, but in the end…It’s me. I love them both. My mom and my dad, I couldn’t love any pair of earthlings more than how I feel for them. They are divorced. I’m in the middle. They say I’m not, but I am. I don’t have a mind to them. To them I’m either like them or the ‘enemy’.

I wanted to be an illustrator; I didn’t put much thought into it. It just popped in my head that it’ll be cool since I’m so good at drawing. Of course I told my dad because I was excited.

“You sound like your mom, look where she’s at right now. You want to end up like her having to be supported by other people like me.” He looked at me so coldly.

“That’s your mom talking when you say things like that.” It got silent. I explained to him that I wasn’t even seriously thinking about it and it was my idea. He said he over reacted and he was sorry. I forgave him, but shouldn’t he know better than to think that I’m so easily influence. I have a mind…He doesn’t know.

Most of these intendances I try to forget about, it’s not fair to hold onto them. I really can’t breathe sometimes, when I come out of nowhere. Now I feel that whenever I tell them something, I have to explain how I came to that decision. They will never except that it was from my mind. I don’t have one to them.

I got my hair cut short, I loved it so much. I had seen in one of my Manga, a character with short hair and it was absolutely adorable, I had to have it short like that. I told my mom about it and she gave me a sour looking face, she didn’t realize it so I didn’t hold it against her. A few months later, all I did, was tell how Dad said it looks neater when it’s short and she got so concerned out of nowhere.

“Is that why you got your hair cut short, your dad wanted you to cut it didn’t he?” the words were almost unintelligible. Of course I explain to her about the Manga, I don’t think she believed me. I don’t have a mind. To them I’m either their daughter or the daughter of the enemy.
Often around my dad I have to be very careful about what I say. I dare not say what I really think about some things. I’ll admit something’s I actually agree with him on some things, but I make a final decision after I think about it for a long period of time. My brain has nerves and ending and beginnings, they collect data organized by my thoughts and recalculate into decisions.

I didn’t really mind it when I was young, I didn’t know better. At age six you take your mom or dad’s words and take it with you, because they are all you can understand at that time. Add ten years and that changes, the world is in your eyes not through theirs.

I was in church this Sunday, I was thinking about how God might be or if he’s even there. Do we become nothing when we die? Simple unconsciousness? I don’t think so, why would people who have never even been approached by another Christian be able to hear God and convert. It makes sense to me. I use logic, personal beliefs and simple faith. People feel him all around them. He saves lives with his Holy Spirit. The mind is a powerful thing; however, logic in the end overcomes imagination. Logic intertwines with His existence. To God I have a mind. I use it for him.



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