I am a lot more ....
I am a lot more...
I have back hair.
I wear glasses.
I have brown skin.
This does not tell you who I am.
I love pizza.
I am sixteen.
I love winter.
But this still does not tell you who I am.
I am not popular.
I get good grades.
I don’t like public speaking.
And still, this does not tell you who I am.
Allow me to elaborate.
I have the hair and skin that I do because my mother is indian and my father is haitian.
I wear glasses because I used to sit right in front of the tv even though my mother told me not to.
I love pizza because it reminds me of ‘Pasta Fair’ the restaurant my family couldn’t find enough
excuses to go to.
I have spent sixteen years on this earth and have gained wisdom and knowledge from the many
hardships and experiences I’ve endured.
I love winter because my mom had never forgotten the day I was born and how she could only
stare up at the sky as snow fell all around her and feel just how peaceful everything was.
I am not popular because I simply never have been. Having a million friends means nothing to
me, I only need a few who are willing to get to know who I am and stand by me longer than the
four years we have at school.
I get good grades because my parents pay a lot of money for my brother and I to go to a private
school and I wouldn’t dare abuse the privilege I have by not trying my very best.
I don’t like public speaking because for most of my life I was the odd one out and feared because
no one really knew me they wouldn’t care about what I had to say.
These things tell you who I am.
And still, they don’t,
Because I am a lot more than words on a page and ways I choose to describe myself.
I am a lot more than my physical appearance.
I am a lot more than my interests.
I am a lot more than what I share on the surface.
I am a lot more than my fears and personal demons.
I am a lot more than a stereotype.
I am a lot more than you think.