denied

I look like a boy. 

That's how I felt when I was 8. By the time middle school came I still didn't have a shape. 

I was regular. 

I wasn't allowed to fit in. No French rolls. No finger waves. To my mom it was all a sin. 

That's too grown. I don't care what the other parents will allow. You do as I say and you do it when....NOW! 

No winning battles in that house. It was always a constant war.

 'No'was a family member of the verbal persuasion. No talking back and no slamming of doors. 

 Imagine for a moment being mute in a not so silent world. Hating the very essence of being a girl. 

Because with it came so many rules. All of these instructions and no tools. 

Figure it out.

You ever question your existence? Just sat and asked God Why am I here? Well every day that I lived was another day that I feared.

It was as if being a girl was a disease. The lowest common denominator. A fallacy. Always questioning my motives. My intentions. I aimed to be invisible because that's what I was taught. Back straight head held high. Don't give boys a first or second thought. 

But I'm a girl. 

What happened to pretty? 

Why did beauty have to leave out once I entered into the room? 

Who said intellect couldn't exist with beautiful? 

Even while minding after my siblings and pushing a broom. 

Well needless to say good grades left. This was too much to take on. An unwanted stress. To be successful and dreaming big I received much protest. I listened. I was polite. I was of the responsible kind. Since they said it was a terrible thing to waste I created a new world in my mind. I got lost in my creativity. Read books as a way out. Those characters I became. Their story I lived.
Freedom at last.
If only for a couple of hours, I got a chance to escape. And at this point in my journey I took what I could take.
I was pretty during those moments. Long and flowing hair. Eyes that gave no clues of the secrets I had bestowed. No borders around my dreams. It was there I could just let go.
 I escaped.
 I found my only friend. Me. My alter ego.  It was there I didn't have to pretend.

But that didn't stop the other me from being condemned.

 I wasn't perfect enough. You ever try living with rage and passion? Love and hate? Rushing through life hoping for an escape? I found myself drifting...