Literature's Next Frontier


Flamingo

NON-FICTION:

This is basically me for the past 10 years

by Cream Horror Quill-red

I like to pretend.

When I was little I pretended that I was a warrior queen. I would fight in legendary battles, save mythical worlds, have secrets that only I knew of, and have a home in a fantasy world only I could see. 

When I was less little I would pretend to be a chef, or an actor, or an astronaut- I would run around the house, gathering items and building forts, cooking makeshift dinners, crying dramatically over conflict that didn't exist.

I had countless toys, most of them were stuffed animals. I knew they were inanimate, they couldn't hear me. And still I talked to them, poured my heart out and pretended that they gave me the answers I seeked.

As I grew I pretended that I hadn't changed, that my world was the same as it always was- that I was the same person.

My mother found a picture of me from my early childhood. Smiling, she pointed at the photograph as she gleamed- telling me stories of my hilarious antics, all the childish fantastical tales I would rave on about, that I had a twinkle in my eye signalling my utter devotion and love of the magical and mysterious.

I pretended to care about my homework.

I pretended in order to protect people's feelings, I stopped being blunt and cruelly honest, I stopped seeing things with the same twinkle and hope that I used to when I was a small child.

I am not that girl in the photograph, I stopped being her the second after that picture was taken.

People change constantly. I have too.

I spent years practically being ashamed of myself for no longer being a child.

I was brutal with my own personality, and I was saddened that I had 'lost' my imaginative toll on the world, my affection towards the fantastical, and my love for magic.

I spent a lot of my valuable time wasting away in my self-loathing, trying to regain something that had been lost for long. I didn't notice that as I changed and grew, I acquired other qualities, some of them better, stranger, newer, more mature. Attributes I could never have had back then. I realized I hadn't "lost" my imaginative toll on the world, or my love for magic; I had merely grown so used to my own bright perspective of things that I didn't notice how unique it was anymore.

I was no longer so vocal about my inner thoughts and didn't openly tell the world about every new idea and spark of light that would bloom inside me. 

I no longer expressed all the fascinations occuring in my head, that no one had any proof of me still being the way I was. There was no one who would validate me with kind words and reassurances of my value.

I had to learn all on my own that the best kind of praise, is the kind that you hear coming out of your own mouth. When no one else is there to whisper in your ear and tell you that you are worth more than the universe can offer, you need to tell yourself that. And you better believe it.

Because who knows you better than yourself? Who can feel, and understand, and help you better than you can feel and understand and help yourself?

In the end, if the answer is anything but 'no one else', you need to fix that.

If you want people to recognize you,

If you want them to forgive you, to remember your good traits,

you need to give them a headstart. You need to learn to respect yourself.


Posted on: April 24 2014

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