Sparks Fly | ✓

0:30

The words in her journal stared at her. They did not stare at her as a form of acceptance. Neither did she stare at them as though she was reading them. However, they were words that made her want the world to open up, and swallow her whole. These words read her, and shattered her with each second that she kept her eyes on them. She wrote them last night. She had to cope right? She couldn't run away from them.

She was seated in her seat - the window seat that is, two hours into the flight, with an estimated thirty-five minutes left. Her dad her booked her flight, and she'd even allowed him to drive her to the airport, which was something she had not done in a while.

Her dad was also the one at fault for tasking her to write down the woman she is, and what caused her to become that woman. In his words, he had said that would be a good starting point to decipher through who she was, who she is, and who she wanted to become.

I am a feminist?
because my sperm donor left my mom, and me, as though we meant nothing.

I vowed that I would never become her.
I would be stronger? braver? take chances? never settle? I would never let a man make me or view me as inferior.

I am fearless?
I have faked it till I made it. I have built
walls to ensure I remain like that.

friends are the root issue I think?
female friends in particular, wouldn't
recommend them. male friends >>
at least I think so...now that I think about it,
not really.

p.s. Dad, this is so dumb btw

I am sexy, bad to the bone!
definitely blessed to have my genes ;-)
because of said genes, a lot of mishaps
have occurred.

said mishaps, led into sexiness being
my main identity.

I am confident/ conceited/ vain?
painted as vain, so became vain.
confident because what else can I do
but do that?

vain because I was raped, but told
it wasn't rape, it was seduction.
so now they can all look but not
touch ;-)

I am a nomad
born a settler, taught by the world not to be that.
taught by circumstances being
free spirited is the way.

at the end of the day, kinda
scared of stability cause a lot of hurt
comes with that. at the end of the day
I try to protect myself from hurt.

WHO EVEN AM I?

She stared at the last question because she didn't know the answer to it. She knew the characteristics she owned with pride. However, was that all that came with her identity? Was that all that could be used to describe herself?

Just thinking about it, it was sad to say the least, that she hadn't realized all this. All that mattered was dethroning men to her. All that mattered was proving her mom wrong, and showing her that she could make something out of her life by choosing this route.

All that mattered was running away from the fact that something valuable had been stolen from her. Her power had been stolen from her, and all along she'd been trying to get it back.