RISING CONTRAST

Letter to my freshman self, Dear me, I know it’s rough

You went from middle school to high school and it all just seems too much

From state to state, People to people ey’re di erent here, no southern accents, no horses or cows or tractors

From a small-town Southern gal to a Big city girl in Georgia

From the trailer park that I grew to know and love

To the biggest house I’ve ever seen

From chipping into family bills with the small, pink piggy bank

To living lavishly and carefree e change is hard, especially challenging knowing that what we went through,

It’s a change, for sure.

Computers and online school and lockdown. Me knowing absolutely nobody in this state, getting bullied (already, really?)

We spend freshman year in hard shells hiding away from the fear and humiliation caused by the people who don’t understand our past

It gets better, I promise.

Letter to my sophomore self, is year we spent apologizing to the people whom we didn’t keep in contact with

Well, I also spent it making friends, I spent this year breaking out of my shell, spent it trying not to fall apart with my past coming back to haunt me

Learning algebra 2 (never again) And guring out that friends aren’t actually cruel

Learning there are in fact people on our side

I spent this year healing, learning to deal with the pain e panic attacks, the overdue homework, the PTSD, I spent this year happy.

I got to show someone love and compassion, feeling the way my skin tingles when I hear them laugh I got to live

For the rst time in 9 years, I lived.

I blasted music in the car while watching my friends cringe at the fact it was Taylor Swi

Backstage watching shows and my face lighting up

I watched Euphoria(and cried a lot)

Invited people over for the rst time in 9 years

I am nallyliving.

It was better, I promise. kennedy