Let’s face it, there’s nothing new about it. There will always be someone in the family who’s different from the rest, and one good example of it is me.
Yes, I’m different. They’re talented and I’m not. Both my brother and sister knows how to sketch, they’re artistic, they’ve got such lovely voices, they’re both great dancers, my brother knows how to play musical instruments by just listening and looking at people playing them, they’re great at school, people love them, they’re pretty and handsome. And as for me, I’m just average, normal person, different from them, and it’s really painful when your parents are the ones who tells you that and your family laughs at you because of that.
I’m the odd one out, I’m different, I don’t have great talent, I’m an introvert(and they hated that about me). What they’re saying is slowly eating me up, I’m afraid that I’m starting to become whatever they define me. I don’t know myself anymore.
I wish someone can help me know who I truly am, Someone who can let the real me out. But too bad, I’m the only one who can do that. Maybe God can give me someone who can help me. Cause I might be sensitive to other people’s feelings, I can see their talents, I can help them find their selves, but I can’t do that to myself.
What a strange blog I’m writing today.
Well anyway, Being the different one, the odd one, or whatever they call it is really frustrating. You know you have something great inside of you, but you don’t know what it is.