Insecurity: A Short Story

Another cold and dark morning on the bus, all I could feel was dread as we got closer and closer to the gates. Despair suffocated me like a fish out of water. I didn't want to go back and face another day in hell. There was nowhere to go, school was the jail cell I lived in during the day, and at home I was an actress pretending I was okay. Every night I was beaten with his so called rumors and continuous distrust because of his own insecurity. Every single day my self-esteem sunk lower, being told to change constantly, not fitting in because I had to withdraw from those I connected to, just to try and appease the situation. After continuous days of going through the same old toils, I felt myself skating closer and closer to the edge. What

was there to do? Change who I am completely, lose my friends to fit in with someone who made me feel alone? I came closer and closer to the decision, like a bus barreling toward a cliff. Inside I was a tornado, full of hatred and complete destruction, nothing could save me from myself it seemed. But then the beginning of a gentle melody reached me through the humming of the morning bus, passing through what I had believed was the impenetrable force field in which I was locked inside. The lyrics poured into me and gave me strength, they wrapped around my weakened core and pulled me together. The song swam in my mind throughout the day; that was when I knew what my decision would be.
“Get your sexy on don't be shy, girl take it off.

This is what you want, to belong so they like you. Do you like you?” Like a crashing wave, I was being torn apart and pushed under the water struggling to take a breath, I gasped for air like I was just resuscitated after drowning. The lyrics hit me hard, like a smack in the face. The simple verse tore me open, ripping the already bleeding wounds even further apart. At the end of the verse the simple question “Do you like you?” was a question I had been asking myself for a long time now, and answering with a solid

“No”.
It was time to get off the bus, I didn’t want to leave and miss the song, but I had no choice. I was always the first off the bus and today wasn’t any different. I shuffled off the bus and grabbed my phone, put my headphones in, and tried to search for the song. Battling the beasts that were my schools website restrictions and Wi-Fi, the bell rang before I could hear the rest of the song. Throughout the day the lyrics played in my head, I chased the words like a dog chases a squirrel. I felt a need to hear the rest of the lyrics as soon as humanly possible, but every chance I got was interrupted. All my attempts were futile until 10:35 that night.
“You don't have to try so hard you don't have to give it all away you just have to get up, get up, get up, get up you don't have to change a single thing.” My Kindle Fire sat open, with enough light to cast shadows in my room, and distort the familiarity of my room into an unfamiliar place of dancing figures and shapes.

I laid on my side facing the kindle, holding my best friend since birth –my stuffed golden retriever Princess Rose- while slow quiet tears fell with the words that filled my silent room. The lyrics silenced all of the discouraging words and thoughts that floated in my head, and throughout my room. In their place were lyrics that shook my core. The dam inside of me was beginning to burst but the water flow was a slow trickle, and as the song continued to play the tears ran faster. The song that saved me was “Try” by Colbie Caillat, that night it played on repeat like a broken record. My mom came in my room during the fifth or sixth repeat and saw me crying, I probably scared her that night, I ever saw her eyes because I was too busy crying. She had many question, none of which I could answer at that point, all I could say was “listen to the song”. Without further questions, a mother’s instincts came out as she laid down next to me and soothed me with her presence as she stroked my soft brown hair, in that moment I was a little girl again, safe and sound in my mother’s arms. In the security of my mother’s arms, I slowly drifted to sleep with the music still

playing. For the first time in months I fell asleep without feeling disgusted with myself. The hatred I felt towards myself was eased, and relief was as miraculous as a blind woman being able to see for the first time. I felt better, I could sleep and breathe easier, and for the first time in months I saw an escape, and freedom was a beautiful sunrise after a night filled with storms.
I was finally at the point where I knew I wouldn’t change for him anymore, as I would learn in the future, craven means coward. It was time to put on my boxing gloves and fight back. To fight for myself. To fight for my happiness. I decided to change and be the young lady I wanted to be. I am my own person, not a slave. Instead of bending, I wasn’t going to be pushed to my breaking point anymore. I realized how toxic a person could be. The one thing I refused to change was my heart. Like the lyrics of the song said, I was done trying for him and I was going to try for myself this time. I was going to be happy. The sun would rise in a couple of hours, and so with the start of a new day came the start of a new beginning. It was my time to try.