She felt she was getting somewhere. She felt she might finally know who she was.
She felt that, after a year of growing and changing and getting to a place where she might finally feel like she could blossom and become the real her...with nothing or no one to limit her.
She started to walk with her head held a little higher, feeling a bit more confident about herself.
She felt like maybe she was finally being accepted more from those around her.
She felt that maybe, just maybe, she could finally feel ok about liking herself and to allow other people to like her too.
She dressed a little more confidently. She acted a little more confident. She was feeling better about herself than she had in a while.
And then. Out of nowhere.
She didn't know who she could be anymore.
This woman and person she was, the true her, wasn't good enough. She was too much.
She sat and analysed her behaviour. She analysed the way she looks, the way she talks.
She analysed everything about herself.
She thought about those around her. The people she thought were her friends. Maybe, maybe they didn't really like her. And maybe they find her too much.
A sleepless night.
After being able to close her eyes long enough to be able to class it as a nap, she woke up confused.
Who should she be today?
Who can she be today?
Because she isn't good enough.
Just as she felt like she was someone who was good enough. As soon as she felt she could confidently say "I have friends" "I am liked" "I like myself" she is back to questioning it all.
Does she have friends?
Is she liked?
Does she like herself anymore?
Her identity again has a question mark over it. After so long of searching for it, discovering it and learning about who she is she is back to the beginning.
She wondered if she will ever be accepted for being the real her? If she will ever be liked for being the real her?
Because the real her, once again, doesn't seem to be good enough.