Suddenly, this thought hit me…
What if Blackwell isn't even the right school for me?
I mean, yeah… it's a good school. Great school even. I'm not gonna lie. Big campus, shiny trophies, kids who know which fork to use at dinner. But their world? It's not mine. It's not even close. No matter how much I try, I don't think I'll ever… fit.
And maybe I'm okay with that.
Aren't our flaws the things that make us who we are? The cracks, the mess…. So why does it feel like here, every flaw is a target, and everyone's waiting with a scalpel to cut it out of you?
Why does everyone act like imperfection is some disease that needs treatment?
We all agreed there's no such thing as a perfect human, right? Or was that just something people say until they meet someone like me? Here, it's like they're all pretending they are.
And seriously…what part of me screamed needing a therapist?
What part of me looks broken to them?
