Though my childhood was all games and careless fun that meant the world one second and nothing in the next, my teenage years were anything but. 

Teens have certain stereotypes and expectations dumped on them by the world, and I didn’t fit them. Obsessing over crushes and lip gloss shades wasn’t amusing to me. Consequently, I was always the maturest in my year group, which made me feel separate and end up preferring the company of books to the extravagances of my age group. Inside I was a girl who had one foot out of reality and cared more about romance in novels and my own imagination than dating a real person. 

I pulled over a facade over the expectations and protected what was left of the girl who hunted for ghosts and made friends with trees. The girl whose perfect innocence thought secondary was simply a different colored shirt and a better library. This clash of who I seemed to be and my true soul pulled my feet firmly on the ground and my foot out of daydreams and anchored me to stress, anxiety, and an extreme loneliness even when crowded with people. 

Labels and expectations I put on myself, plus confusions about my sexuality, spun my head, and the clear, pure river of my childhood muddied with the dirt of stress and self-hatred. Then year 11 came around, and everything seemed to pile up. I couldn’t breathe. There were studies, homework, and extracurricular activities. It was just all too much, and I know I’m not alone in that opinion. 

Being a teenager is harder than anyone gives us credit for. The stresses and stereotypes society presses on us are not real. We don’t need to be super skinny or super rebellious. 

I am me. 

I’m not defined by teenager, girl or gay or any other label they want to throw my way. Because yes, I am all of those things but I am not just those things, and I’m not those things the way the world thinks I should be. 

Who you are is something that only one person in the world can have a say in – and that’s you. So don’t let others define you.

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