I feel small.
There are so many big personalities in this room, laughing and shouting and insulting and bragging and on and on in a cycle that repeats every day.
I have friends in this room but I feel lonely.
These people expect me to be small because I am quiet, and so I feel small, fenced in, uncomfortable and compressed.
Whenever I work up the courage to say something that reflects my inner landscape, they are shocked that an idea so big was thought of by someone smaller than they.
And as soon as the thought leaves my lips, it becomes their's to discuss, and they forget about me again.
They think they know who I am because I am polite, smiling, smart.
I sit in the front, shoulders hunched, pensive, where they can't see my face.
I let them take up their space.
The room is already too crowded, and if I were to be myself I would only add unnecessarily to what there is already too much of.
I save myself for my home, for the people who are my home.
They see me as I see them.
And I do not feel small around them. I feel like myself, unabridged and unapologetic.
Yet in this room,
I am what others see me as; a looking-glass self;
I am small.
But oh, how I wish I weren't.