Too Much

For most of my existence, I’ve been constantly ostracised for the person I am.

I think I noticed it in kindergarten. I watched the male leaders take lead and be celebrated as heroes whilst when I took lead (an objectively better lead), I was ridiculed for being bossy.

How dare a 5-year-old think she was worthy enough to take lead?

In year 2, after a big move to a new school, I fell deeper in love with literature, and that was met with disgust by every child in a 2-kilometre radius. Disgust, but also isolation.

In what world is a 7-year-old allowed to be empowered through the heinous act of reading?

In year 5, I constantly challenged my teacher. I asked her why she wasted so much paper and couldn’t switch to the economic and environmentally-friendly digital world.

I was yelled at and demeaned by my principal for speaking my mind.

Why couldn’t this 10-year-old sit quietly and blindly follow the adult?

It was at this point my innocent curiosity, out of the box thinking and trust in authority hardened into vengeful thirst.

In year 8, I went vegan. It was met with complete and utter backlash with almost everyone I knew. Pushing boundaries? Sticking to my morals? No. Being mocked and rejected, teased and emotionally tortured, that was my reality.

Who would ever celebrate a 13-year-old girl discovering herself and having a mind of her own?

Here I am now. 15.

Still punished for being me.

I’m said to be too loud.

Too fast.

Too in love with growth and improvement.

Too nice (I’ve literally gotten this one. I am not kidding)

Too argumentative.

Too evolving.

Too honest.

Taking up too much space.

Too social.

Too giving.

Too rebellious.

Tiring to keep up with.

After reflecting on the incompetent teachers, oblivious kids, cruel teenagers and toxic friends.

I’ve come to realise.

I have never been and will never be ‘too much.’

You just aren’t enough.