The Girl in the Porcelain Doll

college, friendship, God, illness, life, love

If I had a dollar for every time someone commended me on being “strong”, I’d be a very rich woman.

In our society, being strong means balancing everything and everyone without breaking a sweat.

It means sleep deprivation and a borderline serious addiction to coffee.

It means meeting deadlines, no matter the cost to your sanity; or relationships.

It means not falling apart when you feel the weight of the world on your shoulders.

Sometimes I feel like a girl trapped inside a porcelain doll. I can feel myself beginning to crack; trying to escape this emotional prison, but I patch myself up time and again, for the fear that if I shatter, who will be there to pick up the pieces?

If I fall apart, who will hold the others together?

If I’m not Superwoman, who’s going to save the day?

But I’m not Superwoman.

I’m just a woman.

Sometimes, I just can’t withstand the pressure.

Sometimes, those few little cracks happen in the right places, and I can’t tape them back together; I shatter.

Sometimes, I’m PMSing with a stomach bug, missing deadlines, can’t clean my apartment, don’t have energy for love or friendship, and go through a great loss.

The mind is a fragile, terrifying, beautiful place. It is the entirety of you; it is the seat of your soul.

My mind is frazzled. My mind is tired of hiding emotions that I push aside because, “I just don’t have time to fall apart right now.”

My soul is tired. It’s tired of straining to hold up the mask .

My mouth is weary. It cannot utter the words, “I’m fine,” one more time.

So this is me being honest. This is me falling apart. This is me crying out the tears that have been burning a whole sitting in my stomach. This is me pouring out the emotions that have turned to bile and started to poison my heart.

This is me breaking free from my porcelain frame.

This is being strong.

 

 

 

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An Open Letter To The Guys On The Row

Boys, college, God, life

Dear Guys on the row,

I want to thank you for comparing me to a dog today. I know that sounds a little counterproductive, but let me explain. I’m not thanking you because you decided to be a chauvinistic butt-head. Or because you almost brought me to tears. Or because you completely deflated the happy feeling I had in my heart.

No, I’m thanking you, because you reminded me of one thing: My worth, and identity, can no longer be wrapped up in what you think. The only One who can decide that is God, and He thinks I’m pretty freaking great. You see, I used to care so much about what you thought of me. Whether or not I was pretty, smart, funny, or clever enough, was all up to you. I let who I was become who you told me I was. But not anymore.

You proved to me once and for all that you will never see me the way He does. You’ll never be able to give me the approval I so desire, because you weren’t made to.

I’m sorry I ever put you in that position and that I ever elevated you to such heights in my mind. I can’t promise it won’t happen again, I am a 20 year old girl after all, but what I can say is that I will try.

I will try to believe the truth about myself. I will try to not care about what other people think about me. And I will definitely try to forget about what you said to me today.

Sincerely,

Dog Girl.