This is what I had to start with, and where I got stuck, having no idea where to take it. After meeting with Elizabeth yesterday, I have decided where to go with it and I'm incredibly proud of what it has turned out to be. It's a lot further along in progress than what you see here, but the point of a preview is to not give away the whole thing.
Don't mistake the tone of the essay. It's truly not going to be sad, or a rant about how much I suck (you all already know that hahaha). I swear.
Enjoy :)
I’m overly self-conscious. I want my writing to be perfect, but I myself am imperfect, and therefore hate writing about myself. I’m overly private and protective of my life. I only let in those who I feel least judged by, those who I deem worthy of knowing who I really am. Cognitive dissonance is a term used to describe when your thoughts clearly object to your outward situation. I am a writer, and I am private, and these have created cognitive dissonance in my life.
I want to tell you why I am overly self-conscious, but that would mean giving up my privacy. I want to tell you why I am a writer, but I still don’t quite understand that. I have too much to say maybe, and no one to say it to. In a world where I am surrounded by the judgments of others, I stay as concealed as I can. Reclusive, possibly. Terrified, most definitely. I’ve been called every possible bad thing anyone could think of to call me, and because of that, I have built a wall. The Great Wall of China would look like a white picket fence compared to the blockade that keeps me safely guarded from the world. Things don’t bother me anymore though. I have built up immunity to the terrible things people say about me. I was metaphorically vaccinated in fifth grade. The sticks and stones hit my wall but do not break it. The dementors feed off of my patronus, but not my soul.
In spite of these terrible things I have faced, or possibly because of them, I have also done and said terrible things to people I loved as well as people I hated. I’ve been overly judgmental, ruthlessly cruel, and heartless on countless occasions. I have played both roles, the bully and the victim, and I have proven that I am no better because of it. I don’t want to admit that I am a bully just like the boys who called me fat in fifth grade. And I also don’t want to admit that I have been a victim of bullying because that would mean admitting that I have flaws worthy of being tormented over. I am not all bad though. I have stood up for friends and strangers alike. I have been selfless. I have done good deeds, but the good deeds make me a hero no more than the bad things make me a villain.
I project an image to the world, and because of that, people believe they know who I really am. I wear a lot of black, and therefore I am sad and angry. I have piercings and tattoos and therefore, I am probably a bad influence, or even criminal to some. I don’t have a permanent smile etched in my face, and therefore, I am unapproachable and mean. My boots and jacket are both leather, and therefore I am scary and dark. I have scars, and therefore I am broken. I smoke, and therefore I am unladylike. I am quiet, and therefore I have nothing to say. I am blonde, and therefore I am not smart. I have big boobs, and therefore I am a slut. I am a girl, and therefore I cannot drive or make a good joke. I get good grades, and therefore I do not like to have fun. I do not cause unnecessary problems, and therefore I am weak. I do not deny any of these beliefs, and therefore they are all true.
How about some comic relief?
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| This is me passed out on a car trip like 5 years ago. God I'm so attractive. |
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| This is me in fifth grade. muahaha see why they called me fat? ;) |
Nice preview! : )
ReplyDeleteI love reading this over and over again, and I am really excited for where this is going! :) I think expanding in the areas we talked about will definitely make this even better - don't want to give away anything. :) I look forward to reading your next draft! : )