What Have I Become?

I heard the words “Please don’t disappoint me like others did” so many times it etched into my brain like a nightmare. So, if I do what makes me happy, I fear disappointing the people who brought me into this world.

Sometimes, being the last-born girl child doesn’t come with pampering and a golden spoon or a “you can do anything you want” free card. It comes with standards that your siblings couldn’t meet, the versions of your parents that they couldn’t be. So I tried. I tried to be someone they’d be proud of. I kept going… until I couldn't.

I flunked. That was not my intention though, but things happen. And sometimes things don’t go as planned.

And I became the former gifted child who failed to live up to her potential.

When they asked, “Why did you become a failure? You used to be so good. What happened to you?”I don’t know what to say.

Should I tell them I couldn't carry that weight anymore?

Should I tell them that I couldn't take it anymore?

Should I tell them that I have withdrawals from when their lack of interest in each other made the whole family fall apart?

I know I should’ve asked for help when I needed it. But I was 12, and scared.

So I sucked it up and stayed quiet, because I thought that was my only option.

Their golden child became the disappointment and an ungrateful brat of the family.

How will I prove to them that I’m not who they think I am?

I’m more than that. I have dreams and passion too, just like any other kid.

I want to say so much, but I shut down and try to fit into the mold of the perfect girl they want me to be: perfect grades, perfect height, perfect figure, tons of hobbies… a girl who excels at everything she does.

I failed at being everything they wanted me to do.

I cared about what others thought of me so much, it consumed me whole.

I bent to their will so much I couldn’t even recognize myself.

So I gave up—or so I thought I did.

But I didn’t realize I had developed a habit.

A habit of not saying no to anything or anyone.

It’s not good, I know—but I don’t know what to do.

It kept going until I couldn’t recognize the girl standing in front of the mirror.

I wish I knew how to put the words together properly, so that when someone who feels the same way I did, reads this and relates, I want them to do the thing I couldn’t: ask for help.

Asking for help doesn’t make you weak or a coward or pathetic.

It shows how strong you actually are.

I only learned that later.

I really want to feel everything and live MY life.

It’s a choice I’m willing to make, to be happy with myself and not let others’ happiness be my first priority.

Because in the end, we’re all on our own.

So be happy, and choose what makes you happy.

(And no, I don’t mean choosing substances if that makes you happy, do better, kids.)

I’ve had a few great people who changed my perspective on life in a good way.

I know not everyone is lucky enough for that, but I’ll let you in on one thing: You’ll be fine. 

No matter what happens.

Because you’ll always have yourself.

And that’s more than enough.

I’m 20 now.

I am the way I am because of everything that happened,

And every choice I’ll be making to be happy.

I’m going to keep choosing myself over anyone else.

And I hope every little girl will do that too.

Written By Shivani

Edited By Zainab Imtiaz