There are so many things my friends and family keep hidden from each other even in such “close” relationships. There are so many secrets yet we act as if there are none. Maybe it’s good that some things are left unsaid. We see each other on a daily basis and it makes us feel as if we know everything about one another. We sit and talk; we laugh; we smile. A smile can hold so much though, like those feelings you hold deep down inside of you and the truth you long to tell but just can’t. A smile may oftentimes be the most immense lie a person is responsible for.



To some people that bright smile is what they show to people because they’re scared to show the darkness that is hidden underneath. Most times that smile is a genuine smile that I’ll love to wear. But I will admit that sometimes I do act as though I don’t care when in reality there is something haunting me, nagging at the back of my mind, begging to be let loose and freed into the world. But, everyone has secrets they can’t tell that stay with them forever, secrets they take to the grave. Some, like I, have learned things that they weren’t intended to know. Those are the secrets that always stay hidden in fear of hurting someone. Not even the closest of friends or family ever hear about those things. Even the littlest thing can ruin so much. But still, everyone has untruths; everyone has unknowns. This obvious fact is a huge reason that trust plays such a great role in any relationship, especially to me.

Relationships are very difficult things to build in my eyes. I know so many lies that have been told and secrets that have been kept that I’ve learned not so easily confide in people with my life. I will trust people in a way that I can hang out with them and talk about most things but only the people that I’ve learned are really trustworthy are the ones I talk to about more personal things. I can say that in my entire life I’ve had one close relative that I tell everything to. Her name is Jehan.
Jehan was always my favorite person to be with and talk to. We were always together ever since I was born. We would spend so much time together that I really felt comfortable sharing things with her. I also felt comfortable because of the fact that we are so alike and although my parents say she was a troublemaker as a child, she understands me and my situation better than anyone because she deals and dealt with the same things. When my mom was 19 and Jehan was 12, my grandparents were moving away to Tennessee with the rest of my aunts and uncles. My mom stayed here because at the time she was pregnant with me. My aunts relationship with my grandparents, like mine, wasn’t the best so she stayed in CT as well, living with my parents.
She understands what I feel when I get frustrated with my parents because she knows how her parents were and also how mine are. It’s like we’ve lived the same life and because of this are easily able to share our experiences with each other. We tell each other things we don’t tell anyone else. There may be a 12 year age difference between the two of us but we still talk to one another and hang out like we are best friends
Not only do we share these similarities but she is also someone I really look up to because I know that she is strong and brave. When she was young she was diagnosed with juvenile arthritis and had some other issues as well. She was always on medication and sometimes these things would interfere with school. Along with this she wasn’t the perfect person as a teen so my family seemed to think she’d always be like this. But Jehan is now 26, living in Florida, in law school, acing all her tests. She proved people wrong, and even though it may have taken awhile for her to realize her potential and what she wanted to do, she did it and is doing extremely well with the choices she made. I want to be like her. I want to be able to pull through any rough patches and make it to a career that I love and am good at to show everyone what I can be.

I feel that those who don’t trust anyone once trusted everyone. But by trusting everyone you make yourself then vulnerable to everyone. As a young child you tend to feel that you can tell anything to anyone and that there’s no one who can really hurt you. As you grow older you come to realize that it’s much easier to get hurt than you thought it was. At some points you feel as though the whole world is out to get you. But that is the point in life where you have to say, “who cares what you think? I’m me and I’m staying that way.”
Let me tell you about back in sixth grade. If you ask anyone, they would tell you just how quiet I was. Anyone who recently met me would never believe that I was quiet considering the fact that I now I never shut my mouth. Back then I never talked, nor did I try to interact to make new friends. This was all because of the little lies that turned into reality, because of all those people who couldn’t just tell the truth; how could I trust other people when I couldn’t even trust them? I wore dark colors and wouldn’t even get glasses that drew too much attention because I cared so much about what others thought of me. Maybe they thought I was just a shy person that was scared to talk to people, or maybe they thought that I was just rude for not speaking. I never found out because I never asked; I was too scared, so I just wondered.
Through seventh grade I made new friends and talked more to people. I said what I was feeling and I opened up. By eighth grade I started to show a different side of me; the one that had funny comments and a big smile. I realized that I didn’t want to try every second to do what everyone else wants and expects of me. Two years ago if you asked me to wear a bright pink shirt I probably would’ve declined, let alone even considering dying my hair pink. After doing it I got a whole variety of comments from people saying that my pink hair was cool and creative, to people saying they hated it and I was stupid to dye my hair like that. Back then I would’ve believed them. But it honestly didn’t phase me for more than a few minutes. Other people have their opinions about me and they may not always be good. But those people with the negative thoughts and comments about me are the people I know I don’t need in my life because if they were meant to be in my life they’d appreciate my differences, not criticize them. Maybe trust doesn’t come as easy and relationships are harder to find, but I’m better off the way it turned out.
I still remember to this day sitting in the living room of an adult I’d known my entire life and her saying one thing to me; “I used to be like you but it got me nowhere.” At the time this hurt me more than she could know. She was an adult telling me, as a child, that I wasn’t going anywhere in life, that I was a failure. That is how I saw it at the time. But now I’ve come to realize that she was right, as much as I absolutely hate to admit it. I never did what I truly wanted to do, dress the way I wanted, say what I felt, or did anything because I wanted to. It was always to please someone else or to do what they expected of me. Eventually I realized that I didn’t want to please everyone, so I started changing almost as a way to prove to everyone that I could be courageous and spontaneous and not pretend. She made me realize I shouldn’t pretend, that I couldn’t. That one statement is something I’ll always remember because of the fact that while hurting me at the time, that woman also made me realize what I could really be.
My family is also a tremendous factor in how I’ve changed yet I don’t feel that they see it. But the amount of time that I saw my parents also contributed. Here’s a little background: Since I was about 1 year old I was put into a daycare that I went to 5 days a week from 7a.m. to around 5:30-6:00 o’clock. My mom would pick me up as well as my younger brother and sister. We would go home and then say hello to my dad who would usually be in his room. My dad would have dinner ready by the time we got home and after we ate he would leave. I don’t know where he went, nor did I ever ask. I was told he was going to go out with his friends and I settled at that; he was with his friends. I would hear the door late at night knowing he was finally home.
All of this meant that I saw my mom for less than an hour in the morning and then around and hour and a half to two hours at night, my dad even less. At points they were almost like strangers. I didn’t know things that most people would know about their parents. In fact, I only recently learned how they met. Little things like that made me upset knowing that I never had the relationship with my parents that I saw my friends have with their parents. But this wasn’t completely horrible because when I couldn’t talk to my parents I would talk to my Jehan.
Ever since I was little, I never really told my family much. Their time away from me influenced my ability to speak to them, but I also think that them pushing me to be better than everyone else contributed greatly. Since the beginning of school, my parents, especially my dad told me I needed to be the best out of everyone: 95’s needed to be100’s, checks needed to be check pluses, etc. This thought scared me because I tended to feel that there was no way I could ever live up to those standards. This resulted in me telling close to nothing to my parents because I was terrified that they wouldn’t think I was doing well enough. I worked hard to get the best grades possible and do extra work to be the best. Sometimes, though, I guess that wasn’t good enough for them. If a grade was a B instead of an A, in their eyes I must be slacking. Each time I get a grade that is lower than found suitable to my parents, I would get the same talk over and over. If I didn’t work harder I wouldn’t succeed because being Latino as well as Pakistani in this world would make everything harder.
This did two things to me: it made me want to make sure I got to do everything I set out to do to prove to him and anyone else that i could make it and show them that sometimes, maybe my best was still good enough. But sometimes it made me think, “well why should I keep trying harder if each time it is still not good enough and I’m expected to do worse anyway?” Either way I wanted to prove the statistic wrong. I wanted to be better for me, not because anyone told me to be.
I, just like everyone, have insecurities. I have issues with trust and I am not perfect. I have had hard times, but I have also had really great times. I have relationships with my family that are shaky but I know that they love me and in the long run they will always be there for me. I don’t always open up and I take a long time to arrive at the conclusion of whether or not I really want to make a friend a best friend to have through everything. I laugh extremely loud and sometimes I’m a little obnoxious. I’m creative, crazy and wild, or in other words “not normal” and surround myself with people who are the same.
I was once afraid of what people think, but now I’m me, I’m proud of who I am, and my opinion of myself is what truly matters. You can think what you want of me and those thoughts may not be positive. I do make mistakes. So all I can say is that I’m not perfect, nor do I want to be because perfection is boring. I’ve learned from my past experience not only to be stronger in certain situations but also to just be me. I’ve learned, I’ve grown, and I’ve changed for the better. I’ll continue to make mistakes and to grow again. I can’t shelter myself from that or the lies that surround me and I don’t intend to. All I can do is walk through hell’s traps with a smile and hope to get out alive.