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  • Lotus Magazine MC

yours truly, caroline

I was seven when I realized the world isn't a very nice place. When I was nine, I realized I should be a lot quieter about my opinions. I was 11 when I felt that first piercing feeling of hatred for myself. I was 13 when I noticed I wasn’t as pretty as the other girls. It wasn’t until I was 14 that I grasped the idea that not everybody wants to be your friend. At 16, I realized how wanting to live became more of a choice. I was 17 when I felt like I couldn’t be loved by anyone. When I was 18, I started to see how hard it was to be a woman. And at 19, I thought life was just some silly game.

I finally turned 20 and felt like the whole world hated me. I’m still 20, and if you asked me how I felt about it five months ago, I would have just shrugged. I’ve found you don’t have much to say when you feel like your whole world thinks of you as a cloud of grey. There’s even less to say when you think of yourself the same way. But something they don’t tell you when you feel like everything and everybody is against you is that you still have yourself.

Every single thought and feeling I’ve accumulated since the age of seven, I felt them all and nothing at the same time. Every day for five months, it felt like the marbles of my thoughts were just banging around in my head. I felt every type of alone and just craved the idea of living a life that wasn’t my own. My world didn’t like me and I knew it. At 20, I thought I was just doing it all wrong. I thought it was all just me, that I’d been living completely wrong this entire time. I wasn’t as fun as everyone else. I wasn’t as loud, or as giggly. Everybody else was doing it all better than I was. The harsh truth is that that’s just not the case. But nobody ever wants to acknowledge it’s all our first time living in this world.

I started to find some peace within my own mind and in the situation I found myself in at the start of my Junior year. I choose to live alone, work on my mental health, spend most of my time in the gym, and wake up each day reminding myself that it’s never too late to start again. It’s super cheesy, I know. I’m not one for all the positive and mushy-gushy feelings, but it’s all true. I fell down so hard and I was the only one to pick myself up. If that doesn’t give you a little bit of reassurance that whatever you might be going through can always get better, I’m not sure what will.

I’ve been in a battle with my own mind since the age of seven before I even knew how bad it could get. And now I’m still 20. I’m the same age as I was when I thought my whole life was wrong. This time around it’s months later, and for the first time, I feel like I’m starting to see over the top of the mountain I’ve been climbing my whole life.

Yours Truly,



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