Hey!

How are you doing?

Today, I am going to tell you a story.
Are you ready?...
No…?
I’ll wait.
…
How about now?
Ok.

Once upon a time, there lived a girl. She was as sweet as could be. A diamond in the rough some
would say. She was seemingly perfect. She lived in a big house that her father owned. She
brought imported lunches to school, flew to different countries, and had good grades. She was
the envy of her peers. She had it all. Wonderful, right?

They envied her, but she envied them. She envied their freedom, their ability to eat, their carefree
attitudes. She wanted what most of them had. She wanted physical money, to hang out with
friends, to not be scared. She was always scared. She liked going to school because it was the
perfect excuse to not be at home. Home was scary. She never felt safe in the one place she was
supposed to.

Nothing she did ever seemed good enough and at first, she did not care but then she had an
experience, one that changed her response to that. In her home that was always filled with pain
and criticism, praise was given. The praise was because one of the highest grades possible in a
school had been gotten by one of her siblings. She saw that her caretakers praised academic
success. They cared about that. They did not care about her feelings or how much it hurt when
they yelled or caned her. That was the one thing they seemed to like so she focused on getting
that. Getting the best grades so she could receive that praise. The praising time lasted at most
30minutes, but she would work hard for hours, days, weeks, and months to get that 30minutes.

The problem was she was expected to do better than before each time. The slightest downgrade
was not tolerated. Before long, she was broken in that area too. Every non perfect score affected
her as though they were failing grades even if they were 99 percent.

She was scared of her caretakers. When they were home, she would do her best to be scarce so as
not to draw unwanted attention that might lead to punishment. She was only able to be a bit of
herself when they were not home. She went through a lot, gained an immense amount of trauma
that was never to be acknowledged by the individuals who inflicted them.

You wanna know the worst part?

She thought her life was the norm.Other than the foreign food and traveling part, she believed
that living in constant fear was the only way people lived. She did not discover that that was
wrong until she moved out.

She noticed the looks that she got when said certain things that happened to her. Things she
thought everyone would relate to. Things she thought were normal. They were not. Eventually
she learned to keep them to herself. To keep her experiences to herself so as not to draw that
attention to herself. Eventually she ignored her past, she could not move past it, but she could
pretend it did not exist to try to live in the present. Though sometimes, it would surface and
affect her present life.

She was a faker, a pretender. An avid practitioner of “Fake it till you make it.” Though she
wondered often if she would actually ever “make it” in that manner. She was the nice girl. The
girl most people liked. The girl no one had issues with. The girl with “a lot” of friends. The girl
that was usually smiling. The ball of sunshine. The epitome of positivity. People wondered how
she was able to do all that she did. They thought she was amazing, but none of them knew that
her demons had been catching up with her for a while and the only way to keep them at bay was
to do a lot. To get rid of any spare time, to prevent them from creeping in. She had “a lot” of
friends, but she had no true friend. She could trust no one.

She told no one what she went through to ensure none ever thought less of her. She wanted to
spare herself the pity glances though at times she envied them. She envied their ability to eat out,
eat with one another, cook with one another. She envied the fact that they could interact and
loved each other's company. She always felt out of place, like she did not belong and so
whenever she was invited, she’d politely decline. She was lonely. They weren’t. They had
friends. She was not brought up to have friends. She was not brought up to be sensitive to her
feelings or the feelings of others. She was not brought up in a manner that validated her. She was
brought up to be successful. It is the only thing she truly knows how to do.

She talks to everyone but at the same time talks to no one. She trusts no one. She hides her pain,
hides the lonely, hides the fatigue behind a smile. Her mask is her smile. Till date, no one has
successfully unmasked her.

She is an enigma that everyone thinks they have figured out, but none has even scratched the
surface. She is her own best friend, but she can not even be honest to herself so she does her best
to be optimistic, to leave no room for doubts as doubts could mean she could never escape the
life she had been dealt.

“Who is this girl?” you ask.

Who is she indeed? She is based on a true person. Someone who just wants to be heard, but does
not want to have to yell. Someone who is waiting for that person who would be patient with
them while they break down the walls they have been putting up all their life. Someone who
wants someone to ask, someone to truly care. She is someone who has lived life afraid. Someone
who is unsure of what it all leads to. Someone who just wants to be ok.

I wonder if they’ll ever be…

What an interesting story!

An unfinished story!
How would you end it?