I am so aware, so alive. I can shoot lasers from eyes, I can dance on water, and I can run from Connecticut to California in ten minutes, I am graceful and beautiful. I am the girl mysterious girl who lives in the woods or the girl who lives in a massive city using excessive amounts of electricity and hairspray.
But reality always hit me, like a punch in the stomach.
My daydreams shatter, forgotten until the next day when I can jump on to my tree swing once again. I remember when my family and I first moved to Hamden, Connecticut from our small apartment in Stamford, Connecticut my first thoughts were of tree swings and its color and which tree I would choose to hang it on. However, when my Dad got me my beloved green, to match the leaves, tree swing he said, “While I was putting up that swing I promised myself that I would never push you on it.” I was dismayed that my Dad wouldn’t push me on my new swing, since when I would push myself on the tree swing I couldn’t go straight I always would end up almost hitting the tree. In the end my Dad kept his promise, I learned to push myself steadily, and straight on my tree swing it was all about balance and keeping my legs straight and steady. After a couple weeks, I did not even have to think about kicking the right way anymore it came naturally.
As I got older my swing became my sanctuary after I had a bad day I would jump on my swing and forget everyone and everything and if my parents couldn’t find me in the house they would check the swing. When I was on my swing I would become the girl I wanted to be but the problem was I always was changing the new me. That is when I decided these different versions of me needed to be written down on paper so I would not lose them none of them deserved to be forgotten.
I became many different characters; I was beautiful, ugly, daring, afraid, mysterious and outgoing. I constructed little stories or poems for these versions of me to live in. I was never in just Hamden, Connecticut anymore I was all over the world fighting my battles and slaying dragons and best of all no one knew, it was my own little secret.
One night I fell asleep writing and rewriting, reading and rereading my little stories my Dad found me and read all that I was writing and reading that night, he woke me in the process. I was mortified my Dad was entering my private thoughts, my own little worlds no one was allowed to do that. I was so cross with him I pushed him out of my room and ignored him when he told me to let him in. However, the next day I had to listen to him tell everyone at the kitchen table of my little stories and my different versions of me I hated it everyone knew about my stories at home. My siblings teased me, my Mom did not really care and my Dad was the one that revealed them to the whole house. A few troubling days later, I found no solace in my swing or writing because they both lead to more pain and embarrassment. I yelled at my family that they were taking the joy out of everything that I loved. They were ruining the only thing that made me, me and all they did was tease me and I could not take it anymore. I stormed off to my room and later my Dad came to console me and I’ll never forget his words and his genuine apology for entering my privacy, he told me to never let anyone not even my family get under my skin and creep into peace and happiness. Then he did the most unbelievable thing he wanted write a story with me. Our story ended up being children’s story about the tooth fairy and a girl who wakes up to find her and follows her into the “tooth” world.
This experience meant so much to me, it taught me to not be afraid of what people thought of me, to not be scared that they won’t accept me for me because their thoughts won’t change me. I will always be me the girl who writes little stories and poems about all the different versions of herself.