From the moment the sun kissed my skin my mom knew I’d be a little different.
Her only girl who seemed to live a world of my own.
I fell in love with words as a library kid visiting worlds before I could even ride a bike.
Every kid got in trouble but my mischief was simple stuff. How was I to know I had too much time on my hands
because I wasn’t being challenged enough in class?
Teachers used to confiscate my notebooks because I’d finish my classwork and homework in class to write stories of my own. I needed a journey at all times
That wasn’t why I was picked on by my peers. My skin was “too dark” because “I sat in the sun too long. ” Elementary me came home crying remembering the names.
Junior high me was a bit of a rebel either way, I always had too much time on my hands and not much of a challenge.
Too dark skin…
and I talked excessively according to all my teachers
I probably could spell excessively before I knew how to say it.
College me learned the problem was a bit me but mostly them. I gave people too much power by caring enough to let their words build my confidence.
Never contract other people to help maintain your inner peace because those same people have all the power to break it brick by brick.
Turns out when I got to know my flaws and faults people couldn’t use them against me.