When I was younger I didn't wear pink.
No reason,
Just didn't like it.
I was given a label,
"Tomboy"
It was a big box to fill,
I knew nothing about it,
But I couldn't like pink.
I eventually learned more about the box.
I didn't wear dresses,
I didn't wear jewelry,
I didn't wear makeup,
I didn't know why,
I just didn't.
I could never really fill that box.
Middle school were some weird years.
I stepped out of my old box,
However,
I was vulnerable.
I couldn't hide in the box,
Or blame the box.
So I found myself a new one.
I gave myself a label
"Girly"
It was a very small box,
Not a lot of breathing room.
I had to change how I acted,
How I moved,
How I talked,
How I dressed,
How I thought,
While I was trying to cram into a box,
Too small.
I smiled when I was sad,
I walked lighter,
I acted dumber,
I wore jewelry,
I thought I was more likable.
Everything went wrong one day,
When the box too small,
Started to rip.
Small little holes,
Into the real me,
Hidden inside the box.
I worked so hard for my box,
I wanted people to see the outside,
Because the inside hated itself.
I lost it.
Self doubt.
Anxiety.
Depression.
I would question every action I made,
I was constantly paranoid,
I didn't know why I kept trying.
Slowly,
I stepped outside.
The box too small offered little freedom.
I kept going,
The further I go,
The happier I am.
Some days I wish I had a box,
Days where anxiety comes back,
Days where depression brings me down.
I can't go back though,
I won't.
