The Ugly Truth

A Journal Entry From 2022

All children are born with expectations.

Every parent has a different vision of how their kid should be. But not every child is able to fulfill that quota. It is like trying to explain a mother’s love, which is impossible. Yet all children grow up differently. Some grow up without parents, some have parents who are constantly working and do not really hang out with their kids… and some children have to grow up with the fear of disappointing their parents. Everyone is raised with different rules, different morals, and in different settings. If an author wanted to write a book about every different family, they would be tasked with a lifetime of work, because every family is unique.

There are children who are growing up with what we think is independence. Their parents are not always around, and they are forced to grow up too fast. In fact, all these children around the world who have exposure to certain things and who are too independent, they are forced to grow up. There are so many children who did not have a childhood because of this. I think my parents tried to ensure I had a childhood, and I think that until I was 11 years old, I had what is considered a childhood. But when I was 11, I got exposed at my former school to things that were traumatizing. Students there did anything and everything. I was led astray by all that and I thought it was alright. After that, when I came to my current after three years of being led astray, I made a mistake. And mistake after mistake, I ended up being discluded by the big group, and I was hurt because I did not know what I did wrong. I see now though.

I never understood why people were reluctant to give second chances, to be honest. Everyone who knows me has said that I care too much; even when I should not. I cannot understand how someone can care too much or too little. But, alas, there are people who care nothing of other people’s emotions and are able to just talk about them even when they know their topic is in hearing distance.

I was 12 when I found out about racism and sexism. Honestly, I knew there were arguments and trash against everyone and everything, but I never knew how deep it went. I was assigned to a dorm in my second school, even though I did not stay there at night, I sometimes chilled there with my ‘friends’. At that time, I was rather infamous around the school, and I’d get random requests from the girls to help with some sort of stupid war against a boy or two. The conversation would go something like this:

“Hey, Jess. I need help. This guy is really annoying me and my friend.”

I’d usually ask for a price, because as we all know, nothing good comes free. Or was it nothing good is ever free? Anyways, they give me something, and I’d agree. Sometimes though, I’d feel pity for a certain boy and say no.

I was the only ‘weirdo’ in my old school, and I felt that deeply. Now, I’m in an international school and I fit in more. But I’m still different.

I wish I were more like the girls. More skinnier. More prettier.

I wish I wasn’t overweight.

I wish I were prettier.