Carefully, she wraps herself in her very own, invisible cloak, one just like how Harry Potter had except not quite

For only the innermost layer of her being is hidden, the one she’d only show when she was at home

Nobody should know, Nobody should ever know

Hide who you are because nobody would like the real you

“I hate women who talk too much, I hate loud women, I hate opinionated women”

Her voice was too loud because her words were too loud

She talked too much because she said things that they were not equipped to hear

Their sneers, their lips curled in dissatisfaction, the way they looked at her

And so she decided it’d be better to hide, to change for them, to not have to deal with their hatred

To have at least one person like you, real or fake

Someone who’d like, perhaps not her, but HER

The person she had created, the persona she had nurtured

She became quiet, secluded

Angry

Why don’t they like me!? What’s wrong with me!?

“ Men don’t like women with big noses, Men don’t like women with curly hair hair, 10 Trends Men Hate”

Everything was wrong.

She straightened her hair

She used makeup to make her features smaller

More attractive

More suited to their tastes

Her clothes were all the colors she hated but they loved it so it changed

It all changed

She manifested her desires onto her own body

Her interests faded away, she poured herself into created someone new

A new life

Perhaps if she continued this, someday

Somehow

It’d really become her

She’d really become the person everyone loved

That society loved

But then she became a wannabe, a poser

“5 Signs She’s Trying Too Hard”

Whatever she did, it was never enough

So why bother trying?

Why change for people who wouldn’t remember your name, much less how you looked, in a couple of years?

So I stopped.

I decided it was easier to be who I like, than who they liked.

My hair to my nose, to how much I talk to the way I talk, was all perfect

Because it was mine. Not hers.