He told me I had a chip on my shoulder.
“We don’t want to get rid of it, we just want to shrink it,” he said, motioning with his hands.
I had not realized that that’s how my behavior illustrated me. I saw myself as a strong, independent, opinionated woman, much like –– hell, identical to –– the woman who raised me. I didn’t understand why anyone would want to break a confident person down to nothing.
I vowed I would never let that happen.
…but I think I broke my promise to myself.
I’m not the 14-year-old Emily who began this blog five years ago today. She used to write about anything and everything –– always ranting and speaking her mind. The world consisted of just over 300 other teenagers whom she went to high school with. Life was nothing but her family, her friends, her poetry, her running and the boy she pined for.
Five years and a trove of experiences later, I can say 14-year-old Emily was sheltered. The world ended when her “first love” dumped her and then again when she knew she had to show her mom the fresh, albeit minuscule, welt on her wrist. Fourteen-year-old Emily just wanted attention. She carried her parents’ and brothers’ opinions into conversations with her because she had not yet developed the ability to create her own.
And boy, was my younger self judgmental. She had opinions and she spoke/wrote them, even if it meant losing a friend in the process.
But now? There’s just so much more.
There are so many new people, places and experiences.
It hurts a little bit knowing the original blackbyrd would judge the shit out of me.
I want my confidence back, but I’m not sure I want that chip to grow again. It can keep shrinking down to nothing for all I care.
Fourteen-year-old Emily was such a bitch.