Strong As I Am...

I know a lot of people. I know enough people for everyone to have at least one friend. If all these people were to say they knew me, I would have to say that they were wrong.

Not very many people know me. I don’t even think my parents really know me. If you were one of those people I know, you would know that I am always the initiator. I am always the organizer. I am always the mother. I am always the obsessive, perfection-seeking friend that no one really, really knows. There are so very few people that know me.

Most of the people I know don’t listen to me. Even in casual conversation, I’m telling a story and I can tell the other person has already tuned me out. I can tell when what I’m saying starts to get so laaaaaaaame and it’s obvious when the other person isn’t even looking at you…

When I was in elementary school, I was the class crybaby. I cried about everything! Someone once said, “Crap.” I said that that was a bad word and he told me it wasn’t and I started crying… That’s how bad it was. I was so sensitive.

Some years go by and my emotions are tested over and over again until I start to gain control over my tears. And high school comes around and I’m as strong as I could be. I just graduated from high school with my diploma, well over the required 300 units, and 60 fully transferrable units from college—which means I have an AA degree.

And I still cry myself to sleep way too often. It’s hard to explain because no one will listen to the whole story. I don’t want someone to tell me why I’m wrong. I never stick up for myself because people are always telling me I’m wrong. I have no foundation. I blame myself for that.

For the record, I am not an immature teenager crying out for attention in dramatic ways. I don’t threaten my life with self-injury or suicidal thoughts to get all eyes on me. I don’t drink. I don’t smoke. I don’t party. I’m not stuck up and I’m not selfish. So if anyone is reading this and thinking—great, not another teenager that thinks she’s the center of the universe…

I am not that kind of teenager. I am way more mature than many adults even hope to be. I am probably too mature for my own good. I’ve gone through so much and I’ve dealt with it all on my own and it’s made me as strong as my strongest moments are. If you’re reading this, I hope you’re listening.

I may be strong but I am still a human being and I am vulnerable. I give my heart to so many causes, so many people, so many things… And my heart gets broken. Time and time again, I let myself down when I expect good things from people. They tell me it’s all okay and the next minute I see that everything is speeding downhill and the brakes are broken. My friends lie to me. My friends exclude me. My friends don’t give back to me what I have so willingly given to them. For once, will someone please… please, just once, show me the same love and compassion that I have shown them?

I don’t want anyone’s money. I don’t want anyone’s food. I don’t want anyone’s gifts. I want someone’s time. I want someone’s love. I want someone’s attention for just a few minutes so that I can be reassured by someone other than myself (and my mom) that I am worth their time. I need this. I don’t want to ask for it—I’m too afraid of rejection. So someone needs to take the hint and make a move because I am completely lost right now.

My God is my Light and I believe that He loves me the way that I need it. As a teenager though, mature and strong as I am, it’s hard to feel that and sometimes, God uses other people to demonstrate His love. Will someone do that for me? Someone should ask me to go somewhere with them… Just me and them for the day because they are interested in spending time with me.

It’s late. I’m sad and I’m tired. Goodnight.