To all those Chameleons,
I remember feeling like I wanted to escape to the moon, hoping not even NASA's cameras could spot me. I've got a faint memory of being haunted by the way some lady at the store looked at me. I wished I could've become a chameleon or something. There is more than one account that my mouth seemed to not function properly. Awkward silences were a given. Just standing up, I'd be threatened with drowning stares.
"I'm such an idiot,"I'd tell myself.
"There goes my reputation," I'd mutter.
But living that way is like not living at all. You close off the whole world with your head facing your shoes. You miss the warmth of the sun by wearing your zipped up black hoodie all year long. I wasn't getting any younger. I was tired of feeling judged, labeled, and locked in.
The moment I decided I wouldn't be followed by the shadow of doubt, was the day I enjoyed what I had around me.
I've come to realize that I had built my own walls and that I was my worst critic.
Yes, I will be awkward.
And yes, I will be a weirdo.
But being yourself is worth a million.
Who really wants to be a cold blooded chameleon anyways?