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As a child, I'd made many promises. I'd had many sleepless nights. I'd cried myself to sleep many times. I'd been shown the world by its true colors at a very young age.
The purity of my child mind was taken from me by the time I turned seven. I'd been told there wasn't any Santa Claus. No Prince Charming. That I would die. That everyone would die, eventually. That the world was a very nasty place, that people could really mess up and would have to deal with reality. I'd been showed reality. I lost interest in fairy tales. I'd stopped thinking out of the blue, things would be great. Then by eleven, I'd been insulted in ways I'd never imagined possible. I learned people were really messed up. There was no such thing as discretion. They thought I was weird. They told me I was. They demanded to know why. I would smile, I would let them think I wasn't affected by their words. Those nights, I forgot to sleep, or I'd cry myself to it.
By the time I was twelve I got accused of being satanic- I was a loyal Christian- I got accused of stalking the guy I liked, I'd been promised I would never be loved, I'd been sworn I'd die alone. That was when I made myself my first promise. I would not, under any circumstance, become them. I would not let myself damage the purity of my soul by becoming another monster on this earth.
Thirteen was the best year, of the three. I'd learned the value of friendship. I'd learned who my real friends were; I realized I could count themin one hand. I'd developed horrific trust issues, but I'd barely noticed. I'd become used to barely sleeping; I'd taken that time to read. I'd been under a secretive depression. Only I knew what I truly felt. But I'd taken time to hear people out; I did my best to numb their pains, help them feel better. The year brought too many tears. Many pains, but I got over them. The guy I liked said I was too much of a guy to him; so I dealt with it. I spent endless hours trying my best not to "be a dude". I fixed my posture, the way I talked, the way I dressed. In the end, I was proud of the results, but I wanted more. I wasn't considered any better looking, but I felt better. I started trusting myself.
At fourteen, I was a whole new me. I learned to embrace my crazy, to bring joy. I learned to laugh at myself without making myself sad. I learned too that the best way to express myself was to write, so I wrote every day and shined through my writing. I learned that even when people pushed me down, I had to climb back up, climb higher, where people would push me higher, move to grounds where I was wanted, where I was understood. I learned that contrary to what anyone could say, I too was beautiful, I too could shine.
Now, look at me, fifteen years old and I'm happy with everything I am. I love the way I look, the way I act, and if someone doesn't like me for who I am, then it's their loss, not mine. And I want to share that, with every other young person out there, struggling to accept themselves. Because they too deserve to know they can shine, even if they're told they can't.