Who’s that girl?
She’s the gawky, frizzy-haired, bespectacled girl wandering the playground aimlessly. She watches as her peers play various games. She would play too but she is too timid to ask.
She’s the five-year-old kindergartner who, although she is the only one in her class who can read, is subject to visiting the special education teacher simply because she does not know how to hold a pair of scissors. Her mother’s argument for this is that she doesn’t let her play with scissors.
She’s the young child who always walks looking at the ground, never holding her head up.
She’s the child who has difficulty looking some people in the eye when she speaks to them. As an adult she still has difficulty doing this.
She’s the chubby pre-teen who was too afraid to answer a question in class. She was afraid the others would laugh. They often did.
She’s the chubby freshman on the first day of school. She’s wearing a new outfit, a new ‘do and contact lenses. She walks into home room, sits down in front of a kid she’s been in the same home room with for two years and he thinks she’s a new kid in school. She only wishes she was.
She’s the high school senior who hates her last name. Because it makes her last in the class to graduate.
She’s the eighteen-year-old girl who gets her first job fresh out of high school. She feels rich when she gets her first pay check.
That girl is now a woman who looks back on her life and sees how far she has come and knows she still has so far to go.