Young Writers Society

ME:

When asked to describe myself in a few words I usually struggle. Are there even any words out there today that can describe you, me or anybody else? Because we’re not words, we’re not adjectives, nouns nor pronouns. We’re individual beings, much greater than any words or even essays can describe us to be. As you can see I’ve already gone off the point, me. I may find it hard to talk about myself in public, but I shouldn’t because I am nothing more or nothing less than you, so I shouldn’t be afraid.

The “Me” I have known for fifteen years nine months and eighteen days, is named Heather. Her father named her that and she’s very grateful because her mother wanted to call her Gwendolyn! I am two people. I’m the Heather you see every day and I’m the Heather I see every day. I’m a plumber’s daughter, I’m the youngest child, I’m the only sister and I’m the friend. I have a lot of roles to play in this unscripted life. The average girl everybody sees is not truly me. I am not my hair, my eyes, nose, body or structure. I’m not the way I walk, talk, stand or laugh. I’m not the girl who gets nervous talking in front of people; I’m not the girl who worries about too much. I’m the girl underneath all of that exterior. I’m the girl who overthinks, underachieves, lowers expectations and tries to higher her self-esteem. Being a teenage girl,in this day and age, is quite a lot of pressure. Not that I crumble or anything though, because I don’t. I don’t want to cover myself in layers of makeup, diet until I look like girls on the magazines. Because I’m more than my appearance, I’m more than pretty blue eyes and long brown hair; I’m more than a voice, a picture or a name. I’m inside, I’m underneath and below. Far beyond any teenage troubles. Far away from any recession or politicians. Miles away from titles, qualifications, grades, compliments, insults and adjectives. I’m the soul deep inside. I’m connected to the Heather you see and the one who is with God. I’m the Heather who cries because she knows she needs to release her emotions somehow, I’m the Heather who daydreams, talks to God, doesn’t go to Church very often but has a much stronger faith than any prayer could ever give. I’m the girl who gets so caught up in an idea and lives in the confines of fear.

When I wake up in the morning and look in the mirror I see past the imperfections and I see deep inside to the balancing act that takes place. A shy girl crossing a thin rope, hands out to her sides, tears blocking her vision, the futures brightness enabling her to see light and the past’s darkness pushing her forwards.