The Life Through Her Eyes: A House on Mango Street Memoir

The Rebel

The Rebel

 

The past year has been a shift in my life. My parents call it the year that I become a teenager and rebel against them. I call it trying to be myself. I don’t know if they grew up with expression when they were growing up. In our society, though, is all about expression, and being who you are.

I feel restricted from being myself. I can’t be free. I can’t be who I envision myself. The hardcore girl that I truly am. I am all about black, piercings, the hair, spikes, the “punk” girl look. Though, I prefer scene. It makes it seem less harsh.

My parents see me as the soft, bright, gentle girl that they want me to be. Dressed in bright colors. Though they don’t understand that that’s not me! It never will be. It might have been that way in the past, but they don’t understand my present.

All I want is to be able to express who I am. Who the real Brooke Romano is. I can’t, though. They will never let me. They put too many boundaries. Like I’m a five year old who has been put into a ball pit and I can’t escape. That is how it feels. Like I’m drowning in plastic, colorful balls with no way out. No way to show who I am. I scream and scream, no one hears me. No one will ever hear me. I’m too shut out, too ignored. Too young to put my feelings into the mosh pit. The Warp Tour growing in my heart, getting bigger and bigger. No way to stop it. Just make it stop. Before I break, before I lose it, before I lose myself in the wanna-be child that my parents see.