The six thirty alarm rings. You look around and see that it’s sunny outside and think about how your sun kissed complexion might darken. You gaze into your mirror that’s propped against the wall. You see your curves, eyes, and looks that people envy, but those looks you can’t seem to appreciate. You look at all the pictures lined up on yourself and of your supposed boy band crushes. You stiffen, because that’s not who you are, he’s not who you like…
You walk over to your closet relaxing your shoulders and walking in your perfect, quiet ways. Your room is surrounded with sports trophies and awards. You look in your mirror and practice your picture-perfect smile that you family adores. Everyone loves you, but no one tries to look below the surface. You slowly walk over to your closet dragging your feet, but only enough for yourself to notice. You stand in front off your closet and pull back the flimsy wooden door. It creeks and shakes open as bright, colorful clothes come forward. The colors that your supposed to love, the colors that are supposed to flatter your frame, but that frame is just the surface. Your feet drag as you make your way to the bathroom opening the door and letting it swing shut behind you. Your life just isn’t what it seems.
The quick shower you take doesn’t seem to wash away the pain. The clothes don’t seem to help either. It’s all just a way for you to cope with the pain. It feels like you’re putting on a new face every day. Your original face seems to change, where your mask stays the same stuck in time. Everyone seems to love your mask, but what if they don’t love you? All the emotions seem to be an unfixable problem. Nothing ever changes, because change what? Hard, scary, ……impossible? You think to yourself, your life just isn’t what it seems.
You go to school receiving all the hellos from friend and good mornings from teachers. Your smile seems to radiate down the hallway. You see other kids faces starting to reflect that one small, fake smile. The happiness seems to drown you, it’s like everyone is stepping on you to get out of the water and you are slowly sinking down as they leave you behind. The eyes that look at you in an admiring glance seem to sting like fire. You wonder how it’s possible to feel like your drowning, when there’s no water. Your life harder, different, and more complex than others think it is.
When you first look at me you would probably see a happy kid with no care in the world, but if you look below the surface you would see my struggles, my story, my reality. They say first impression are everything, but what if they’re fake. We can all find ways to hide our identity, but the hardest part seems to be telling people who the real you is. Who are you? Why are you hididng? It's time to take our masks off.