Who am I, really?

Masked by society and my mother’s expectations, I'm seen as a diligent girl.

“She’s calm and friendly.” 

“She’ll know what to do.”

“She has to work hard to be successful.”

“She won’t make the same mistakes we made.”

The pressure builds up and creates something that’s not true. 

I want to scream and release all my emotions bottled up inside.

“Stop molding me into who you want me to be!”

But… who am I, really?

I’m a dork. I’m awkward. I’m spontaneous and impulsive.

I cry easily, and I love to sing and dance alone in my room.

Art is my passion; it express my emotions in ways words can’t.

My closest friends know this side of me, yet my family don’t.

However, I’m afraid to reveal myself. 

I feel like a coward hiding away because I can’t imagine facing her disappointment.

For now I’ll just slip that mask back on… maybe tomorrow I’ll show who I am, really.