Disappointment. Sadness. Lack of recognition. All sum up the look in their eyes. I didn't rob a bank. I didn't kill a man. I am not a junkie. I am not an alcoholic. I am not a failure. Yet that's how they look at me.
I fucked up a little. I took some steps away from them. I decided to walk the trail I chose not the one laid out for me. Is it so surprising? Is it so awful? That I have an identity of my own? That I'm tired of taking orders from others? Doing what others want me to do?
Are my opinions so avant-garde that they require that frown on their faces? Are my ideals too much? Are my dreams way too big for little Malta here? Well good that's how they're supposed to be.
I could be the yes girl. I could say yes to anything anyone wants. May I borrow your notes? May I take your lunch? May backstab you? May I treat you like dirt and then demand your help? May I walk on you and clean my shoes, I don't want to dirty my mother's good carpet you see. May I look down on you like you're a nothing? Yes.
No. No. No. I can't do that anymore. That girl is gone. Dead and buried where no one can find her.
Did I disappoint you? Did I surprise you? Did I shock you? Good. You do not know who I am anymore? Even better. Because the more you knew who I was the less I recognised myself in the mirror.
I finally learnt to utter the word no.