I met her when I was ten

She was the stranger at my door.

The dog barking at me from across the street.

The tree branch knocking on my window in the dark.

She was the brussel sprouts my dad made for dinner.

 

At twelve, she was different

She was homework.

The test I had on Friday.

The boy I had my first crush on.

She was the birthday invitation I didn’t know if I would get.

 

At fourteen, she had changed her shape again

She was the first day of highschool.

The where do I sit in the lunchroom?

The does this shirt make me look fat?

She was the group of girls laughing in the hallway.

 

Still at sixteen, ever changing, she clung to me

She was my drivers license test.

The popular girls at school.

The pimple on my forehead.

She was the outdated phone I got made fun of for having.

 

But at seventeen

I started to wonder

Does she feel as small as I do

In this great big world?

Does she know her impact on me?

Manipulating my every move

My every thought.

 

She has so much power

For something so small

Maybe I, too, have some power.

Maybe I am not so small.

I tell her to go to hell.

 

I still know her at eighteen

She is the man walking towards me on a dimly lit street.

The college applications.

The code red drills every week.

She is the news I see on TV.

 

But now I have the power.

There are some fears

I still have not overcome.

But now I do not let her control my every move.

Fear is a part of life.

But you cannot let fear

Dictate your life.

You are the author of your own story.