I’m not like other girls. This is what I hear- all the time, I hear it. “Most people don’t think like you do, act like you do.” And I have trouble with that, have trouble taking it at face value. Because it probably just means “you’re different” and there’s an end to it. But what I hear is: “You’re wrong- too soft, too naive, too forgiving, too worried about pleasing everyone else.” And I’m not like other girls so this is what I hear.

This softness and naivety is all I’ve known. And I’ve played at toughness. I’ve crossed my arms and held my chin high while declaring “Enough is enough!”. I’ve been pumped up to that out of fear of not being like other girls. Because I’m that girl in the movie who wants to be friends with everyone, who has trouble with boundaries, who thinks there’s always a way to get along. I’m the one they roll their eyes at, who they talk over and interrupt because I’m not like other girls.

I wish I could care less, wish I could be like other girls. I wish I could turn off the part of my mind that experiences every unkind word like a physical wound. Because they don’t think like I do, act like I do. They’re different. And I may be wrong. I may be too worried about harmony and not concerned enough about what’s ‘right’. But I have a line like everyone else. And while it may not be drawn where other girls have drawn theirs, it is there nonetheless.

Cross it

and you cross me.

And then,

I’m just like other girls.



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