She is beautiful. She loves life and everything in it. She sees the world through the eyes of a child. It becomes whatever she wants it to be. One minutes she can watch sunshine and joy blossom out of nothing and the next she can watch the earth crumble beneath her feet. And even on the darkest days, she believe there is nothing that is without beauty.
She has a need to create. A need to express herself in a way that will encourage others. She has a passion for people. She would rather help someone unpack all their baggage than have a comfortable conversation about the weather. She has joy and wants to share it with others. She sees the good in people and wants them to see the good in themselves. She sees the bright side of things. She loves with everything that is inside her.
But what a shame. What a shame that she chooses to hide. She does not let people know her heart. She does not let people in because the world has told her that she is weak; she is, after all, just a girl.
The world tells her to grow up. Strong women do not wear their emotions on their sleeve. Strong women are not full of joy. Strong women are pushy and get what they want. Strong women are bitter. Strong women are alone and independent. Strong women don’t cry. Lies. But she feels as if she is being held to that standard. So every morning she wakes up to play pretend.
She pretends to feel nothing. She bottles up every emotion, holds on to them so tightly, until they bubble over and pour out her eyes. But, of course, she lets no one see. She pretends to be the girl who has it all together. She pretends to be the girl who is cranky and sarcastic. She pretends to be the girl who would rather be alone. She pretends so well that she has almost convinced herself that’s who she really is.
But every evening when she is alone, she breathes a sigh of relief. She hangs up her mask and puts down her walls. She pours out her soul in rainbows. She paints her dreams into realities. She sets herself free.