There is a Kings of Leon song somewhere in history.
About a charmer.
And I think I became one very early on.
I used to be feisty.
I used to be radical and outspoken.
I never got voted for prefect in primary school.
I think the teachers decided I should be one anyways,
Because you know. Surnames.
Safe to say, I never won the popular vote.
I had this fight at high school, where I was arguing with a girl.
And she ripped it into me.
For always being “right”.
And no one had really fought me back till her.
No one had tried to put me in my so called place.
I was stunned.
I didn’t really know how to process or cope.
For some reason, I doubled down and thought she was right and I was wrong.
Who I was being was hurting people.
And so I learnt to win love.
To win votes.
To win affection.
Because I wanted to be the frickin belle of the ball.
And so I layered up.
And I trained to win.
I’m so good at it now.
I can’t tell you who I really am.
Because it’s somewhere there.
Under all the layers.
Of the pleasing.