Personal Adaptation

When I was a little girl, I used to play in the woods for hours. I made tree houses and imaginary kingdoms where I was Queen to a group of royal subjects and ruled the world below. I pretended I was an Indian princess, sticking feathers in my brown hair, and tried to walk soundlessly in my moccasin's over the autumn leaves and green growing moss.

I wrote bad poetry in a pocket sized notebook and told stories about the kind of girl I wished I could be. Always pretending I was much braver than I actually was, never admitting to the things that scared me. And I was scared of so many things.

Like most little girls, I was scared of the dark and all the things that existed when there was no light. Shirts turned to monsters, and beneath the bed there was an underworld of evil things, all waiting for the moment when it was beyond my control to keep my eyes open any longer.

But my fear of the dark was nothing compared to my need for acceptance.

Somewhere along the way I came to the conclusion that in order to be loved, I had to earn love. I had to be the best daughter, the straight A student, the responsible friend. A chameleon able to adapt to any situation.

And it was so easy. Easy to change myself into something that someone else could agree with. Easy to simply shut my mouth and forget for a moment I had opinions of my own. Easy to be anyone other than who I was. A girl whose heart was easily broken at the slightest hint of a cruel word or a swift blow.

Because what I never wanted anyone to know was just how soft a heart I had. How quickly I could misjudge a situation, automatically assuming the hurt, rather than think that there could be a different conclusion to my quick synopsis. Because even though I'll question a scenario in my mind a thousand times and then a thousand times again, I'm loathe to come right out and ask the direct question. The question whose answer can sometimes be the one you don't want to hear.

Perhaps a public service advisory would be in order ... Nice girl with tender heart, tread carefully, try not to bruise.