On the harder days, I need patience from those around me. Please don’t call me lazy, or tell me that if I just did something it would go away. I’ve tried that. I still do. But sometimes, doing something is just too much.
I easily fell into that way of thinking, equating my lack of interest in boys to thinking I wasn’t ready for them; I was too immature or had other interests that required my attention. I believed I must just be a late bloomer.
No one is perfect. It’s what makes us beautiful and unique. It’s the imperfections that create stories, laughter and memories. It’s the mistakes that help us learn and grow. It’s what makes humans, human.
I would rather be given empowerment than be given condolences. I would rather be treated as a human being with a story than as a psychology project.
I had been so ashamed of messing up on the play set trick, so afraid of getting into trouble for being reckless on the playground. So afraid of not being perfect.
Share your story, your experiences and your wisdom; you are important and your narrative deserves to be heard.