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throughout most of my life i’ve been called “boring”,
that i’m not fun,
and those words hurt,
but it was the mask,
the mask i had built for years to protect myself,
i diluted my personality,
to be accepted and loved,
because the real me was too much,
they told that the real me was unlovable,
and mask is what was “boring”,
but the real me is fun,
fierce,
creative,
bold,
and i hate that they took that away from me,
because now i can’t separate the mask from the real me anymore,
so maybe i am boring after all.
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as a child, my closest friend called me a "chameleon" (which was a pretty clever analogy given her age when she said it...)-- she said that i change the way i am around each and every person i interact with and that it's like there's not even a real me. when i was a few years older, another girl disgustedly called me a "plain jane" (and she wasn't talking about my fashion sense). your poem is both beautifully written and painfully relatable.
you are fun, you are fierce, you are creative, you are bold, and you are so much more than your mask. don't give up on that person. i hope that some day you find the confidence to allow the real you to shine through, and that you surround yourself with people who make you feel safe enough to be yourself <3
Replythank you so much, i hope that for me too <3 :)
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