Dear and Perfect Brooke

Dear and Perfect Brooke

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Tue, Dec 12, 2017
There are tales. tales we use to say. There are expectations. Expectations for the perfect girl. We saw her strong, none one cared to think she felt asleep crying. She acted like nothing was wrong, but maybe our perfect girl was just really good at lying. She looked me in the eye. I asked why was she so nice. And with a smile in her face she kindly said: maybe I just don't want anyone to feel this way. All she ever wanted was for her mother to show she was proud of her. For her dad, to see her struggle and stand for her. For the people that surrounded her to tell her to stop. That it was ok not to be perfect; that they were proud of her either way. But she never got that. She was never enough, never ready for life; never what they wanted. Because no matter how beautiful, charismatic or clever you are. It's never good enough. Do you want to be perfect? Do you even know what it takes to be perfect? Are you ready to loose yourself to society? Is it worth it? I don't think so. SHE doesn't think so.
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They say what's in the past keep it in the past but I wanted to know all about my past. It was things that I didn't know and that I wanted and needed to know! But my life turned upside down when my past is exactly what I should have left alone. Now if you ask me how it all began, I don't exactly remember but I know it started when I moved in with my grandma who I haven't met in all my twenty years of living. I have been in and out of foster homes since I can remember, living with families I knew nothing about. Being the outcast and them constantly asking me what's wrong because I simply did not speak. The only thing that kept me sane was my good grades throughout school. I got the satisfaction of doing the one thing that people kept telling me over and over I couldn't do. I stayed to myself and graduated high school with honors, getting a full-ride scholarship to any college of my choice. Of course, by having this accomplishment, it didn't make it any easier for me between my foster families. To them, I became the girl who was better than them. But I didn't care because when I turned twenty I finally got to start making my own choices. This is where I wonder if the first choice I made was the right one. The first choice I made was to go live off-campus with my grandmother during my first semester in college. I ask myself how could I be so stupid? But you will see just how stupid I was. Or was I?

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