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Fitting In

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I hadn’t discovered myself because I’d failed to explore those places where my strengths laid. I looked like a failure because I always tried to do what I wasn’t wired for simply because those around me were wired that way and it was just expected that I should follow suit.

I explored my weaknesses. My favourite dresses and blanket were sewn from pieces of my inadequacies you sprayed me every time, as a generous guest will currency notes at a nuptial dance.

Hard as I tried, the only thing I seemed good at was being mediocre. So with the medals it won me, I made jewellery I wore so often it could pass for a tattoo on my ear lobes.

I cannot be like them, cannot function like them, because it’s how the Creator made it. They can’t function like me either and you don’t know because my strengths lie latent and since your defected sight can’t see them, you never ask the others to be like me.

You never ask them to put words together so perfectly, yet you ask me to derive equations and solve problems like the speed of an orange falling from a tree, like anyone ever cared about that.

The Creator knew the world will be a mess with a single species of humans. So he made each one in his peculiar fashion to reflect a part of Him that otherwise, will not be made known.

You find me a square peg, take me to square hole and watch me fit in like gloves. You’re quite unskilled if you take me to a round hole and try stuff me in, chopping off my edges, the very essence of who I’m meant to be.

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Author:

Poetry freak. Chemical engineer-in-training. Daughter of the Most High.

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