Posted on May 4, 2014


Keep out. Go away. It’s for your own good.


I was the kind of child you have to reach out to. I was never the one to show off or initiate a conversation. As much as I wanted to show you my encyclopedic knowledge of Harry Potter (if I do say so myself), I wouldn’t. I would be the kind of little girl that kept to herself; nose buried in a book, earphones plugged in. I’ll mind my own business because I’ll probably just annoy you if I started talking to you first. YOU have to be the one to talk to me first.

As you might have guessed, this brought me only a handful of childhood friends. The people I really consider my friends are the ones who successfully broke through my walls, making me care for them more than they know. This always leaves me feeling as though I’m the one who loves too much, and sometimes I’m not even aware that I’m doing it.

As time passed, I became less of a “walled” person. I slowly take down my walls brick by brick, initiating conversations with people I assume at first glance to be friendship potential. I built more friendships and became generally more friendly and less antisocial, but the walls were still there. They just won’t break down.

I go through adolescence and realize that I have dark corners in my mind. I have self esteem issues and I think too much. I hated myself most of the time. People can tell me I’m pretty or that I have done a good job or whatever, and I will still feel like they are just saying that. Whatever I do will never be good enough. I have gotten used to the thought that no one outside my family will ever love me because there will always be something lacking; something broken about me that makes me not good enough for anyone.

Let me tell you something: I hate disappointment. I hated disappointing people. I am at my worst when I feel like I have fallen short of being Little Miss Perfect. I try to keep out of people who have their expectations of what I should do and who I should be, but still I unconsciously try to please everybody. I feel like everyone is expecting me to be uppity, smart, pretty, thin…all the things I need to properly rehearse first. It’s very tiring. I have to be the Sunshine Princess when deep inside I have become the Muse of Death.

That’s what I am: the great pretender. I hide behind smiles, wit, and sarcasm to conceal the issues I hold deep inside. Throw the first punch through my walls and my whole world will rattle. I am more threatened than you will ever know.

What hides behind these walls, you ask? Insecurities. What ifs and regrets. Mild psychosis. The real boring, stupid, unattractive me. Dreams caught in the traps of inner personality, family, and religion. All the sick, fcked-up stuff that I will never tell anyone. Secrets, hundreds of thousands of secrets. Breaking down these walls means exposing yourself to the poison of my mind; prompting you to leave me in my state of disrepair.

I am aware that no one will ever truly know me, not even myself. So when someone comes along and fcks up the walls that took me forever to build, I get scared. Because to be honest, it doesn’t really take much to smash the bricks and with constant work, the walls will be gone. And when the walls disappear, I will be vulnerable. Here I am, the real me. Yours for the taking, yours to destroy.

Please know that when I start letting you know that it’s okay to come in, that it’s okay to approach, you are halfway through breaking down the entire thing. I don’t let just anybody in. Time has made me realize that a fortress will keep me from getting hurt again, so I carefully scrutinize anyone who dares to bomb the whole thing down.

I’m sorry if I can’t bring the walls down entirely for you and present my vulnerable self to you. I just needed to be really sure that you won’t leave like the others. Because I’m really tired of feeling so strongly for something that will leave me broken in the end.