Treasure Prelow, Mirrors, Feelings, and Acceptance

Who would’ve thought I’d be sitting in front of a mirror, all alone saying to myself “....man we have issues!” I’m not saying there’s something wrong with me (or that I have to go to the psych ward) but there are some things that I just have to sit back, think about, and come to terms with.

Ever since I was in middle school I always felt I was different or felt as though I was always in the back like clouds in the sky. People would be rambunctious, and screaming at the top of their lungs with their friends. I would be behind them trying to keep up. They would always come in with the nicest shoes every week and always had new clothes. My family didn’t have as much income back then so I only used the same pair of dingy, dirty, and disturbing Nike Air Force Ones and the grey sweater that my momma and I found at Goodwill.

Because of that I was deemed the “quiet kid” or “the smart girl.” The question that I feel as though younger me would ask me now is What happened to us? Why did we let them win?

Growing up, I was taught to be myself and not let people change who I am. Like any child trying to be with the crowd in this day in time I didn’t listen now. Looking back I wish I did.

I’ll be honest. Middle school-specifically 6th grade-was absolute hell. From the popular girls that were only “popular” because they were pretty, the guys that only showed they like someone by completely humiliating them, and the teachers that looked as if they were about to throw in the towel or sneak alcohol in their drinks. The one thing that just made middle school so hard was: my feelings.

Everyone is allowed to have feelings.

Emotions are a part of human nature.

Always put yourself before others.

That’s what they say and guess what? I don’t listen to it or believe it.

My brain is in this capsule that keeps changing the lock every time I try to open up about my feelings. The rubik’s cube has nothing on how my body physically shuts down when talking about how I feel.

Yet I always find myself telling other people to open up and their feelings

matter- ironic isn’t it- but we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.

Before entering middle school I had this outgoing personality, always felt confident, and didn’t have a care in the world. Until the upperclassmen said something that I couldn’t even fathom would make such an impact on me today.

Why are you so talkative?

Annoying much?

Never would’ve thought that those simple words would be able to change me into someone I never wanted to be. It was always hard expressing how I felt or being able to not feel like a burden over the simplest things, but that’s just how I am.

Now we’re back to the mirror.

Here.

Alone.

Just me and the person that is a carbon copy.

She was this bright vibrant person, always shined through, and now she hates attention-yet she craves it.

This person that wanted to have so many friends, but ever since she was seen as

Only good for so long.

Easy to take advantage of.

A bitch.

She lost all of them. What they don’t know is that they are the main reason she became that. Maybe she was at fault for letting it happen for so long, and that was because- she never said how she felt.

A hollow shell of a person with sunken eyes and a numb expression.

Now, now there were some happy times

Good times

And the times where I had to take a week to get myself together because I was the “Mom friend”.

Looking back, I realized she

No.

I didn’t put myself before others, not even once. I never wanted others to feel how I felt. Even when this girl tried to bully me because I stopped having a crush on her boyfriend. Or when my friends came to my birthday party only to ignore me. Not even the boy who broke my heart while he was at military school and cheating on me. (yes military school. He was a jackass-and still is).

I feel as though my parents played a part in the way I am, and I’m not talking about one of those sappy, shitty shows on Disney Channel where the parents are quirky and always try to be “cool parents”.

My parents are nothing like that.

My father was always closed off emotionally so you can’t really know what he’s

thinking- must be his parents doing.

My mother is too emotional, but she tends to blow her feelings up so that she can feel as though she can be heard- also the doing of her parents.

Do you see the pattern? From generation to generation some type of “emotional baggage” is passed down. One of my siblings got the trait of being emotionally strong from my mother and one got the non-emotional trait from my father.

I’m the middle ground. Either scream my feelings out to where I’ve had enough or take the path of never opening up. I chose to be able to close off my emotions and then be able to open them up when needed.

Thanks Mom and Dad you gave me emotional issues! Love that.

No one deserves to feel like their feelings don’t matter or that they shouldn’t have them.

So here I am today. Putting my foot down.

Sticking up for her.

Hell, now I’m doing the one thing I couldn’t ever do is: value my feelings.

It’s hard, but at least I’m trying.

The “old me” would’ve never been able to do this.

Shutting down, lashing out, and just harboring all these emotions to the point of self destruction. She was able to get pulled out of that dark, desolate, and daunting pit of despair by the “new me.”

She’s able to accept these feelings, and grow with them.

With that being said to this cold, hollow, transparent mirror.

To this person with the light slowly coming back to her eyes.

To the girl that never feels as if she is valued.

I’m sorry.

And I will be back to talk to you again so that you’re never alone.

We’ll walk this path together. Hand in hand.

We’re in this together.

I promise.