There are some moments when you start losing yourself simply because you’ve been someone else for such a long time. And you can’t tell people around you what’s wrong because it’s hard watching them not knowing what to do. But somewhere is this world, your story is someone’s survival guide – a gift you constantly have to shape.
The gift
by Teodora P.
There are some moments when you start losing yourself simply because you’ve been someone else for such a long time. And you can’t tell people around you what’s wrong because it’s hard watching them not knowing what to do. But somewhere is this world, your story is someone’s survival guide – a gift you constantly have to shape.
I was there, in front of the classroom with my body completely freezing, my mind still fighting to get out of the bunch of thoughts flying round and round. I could feel all my classmates staring at me and waiting for my answer to finally show up on the board, or just for me to say something. I gave them a brief look and curled my fingers around my waist tightly, then decided to write some of the words found on the paper I was holding in my hand. And all of a sudden some kind of wave hit me right in the face and I whispered: `I can’t go on. I…I can’t do it.` No one could hear me, so I took a short breath, writing again a few more letters. I kept telling myself to stay there, but all I’d been listening to since I got there were their laughters, their loud, though faded voices. Then, another breeze hit me, this time harder. I leaned on the board and dropped on my knees dizzily. I managed to hear some of people behind me saying `Maybe she’s too tired.`, `She doesn’t know how to do it.` A little tear fell down my cheek, burning. While trying to wipe it carefully, the wave punched me one more time. I took a deep breath. I breathed twice – it hurt. One more breath – a warm voice embraced me, taking me back to that place, now deeply silent.
`Whenever the thought that you can’t do it comes to your mind, remember what your most precious gift – is your voice. It’s right there, in your soul, in your body, in your being.`
There are some moments when you start losing yourself simply because you’ve been someone else for such a long time. And even if it’s hard to talk with people around you, there will be someone to hear your words even when you’re quiet. My gift was still there, waiting for me to open it. I just needed to remember that my voice is what makes me who I am.
