Hero is dressed in a pretty little girl who... Well here goes this...

Let me tell you a little story of an unsung hero.

A smart little girl, who accomplished a feat that was downplayed

Yes, smart! Skipped a couple of grades in primary school and levelled up

Papa's pride and Mama's gift.

A pace setter she was.

She of course was told of how proud they were and she felt proud of being the source of that pride.

The next level... Oh well, was never envisioned

No one told her it would be difficult—of course she was prepped on what to expect.

But no amount of prepping could prepare her for what lay ahead.

She had dreams, plans and wanted to be happy...grateful

But how could she, when the bullying started?

It wasn't overt. No, it was subtle— couldn't have been detected it if not paying maximum attention.

Subtly but surely it began

The “she was never meant to be here”

“She skipped a couple of grades, not that she is smart or anything just sheer luck.”

“You can't speak when we are speaking”

A feat she was once proud of became one she detested and hated to mention.

She tried hard to be happy believe me she did,

But happiness jeered with the perpetrators.

She never wanted to be rude or rash to her loved ones but there was only so much a little girl can take.

So she got irritated, fiery with words, stubborn.

(I guess that's what happens when it's continually reiterated that “you are not good enough“or “not deserving”)

Her parents— of course noticed that their happy precious baby was gone

And thought teenage crisis had set in.

Later it became serious that they thought she was being badly influenced in school.

Well they were right— there was a great influence from school.

“Talk to us, what's the problem?” they asked.

She did tell them. They understood to the best of their knowledge

They helped giving her pep talks, asking the guardians to be watchful over her.

But they never really understood

So, she put an end to the worries.

She told them half truths —that she was able to stand up to the perpetrators and that the bullying had ceased,

She pretended that everything was alright and it worked.

Mama stopped worrying and even used her as an example of how one can deal with bullies.

Anytime she heard it she cringed inwardly “Oh Mamma, you don't know anything”

So she continued faking it for six long excruciating years.

I mean how hard can it be?

Little to no slaps, jeers, mockery, insults, backhanded compliments.

In the middle of the night cried not because she was a weakling but how badly it hurt.

Fight back! You say? Trust me she did.

She tried it. Remember when she told Mama that it ceased, she really did fight back.

But I guess she was given only a breather and it resumed fiercer.

She couldn't fight all those people.

No, they were a multitude against her who had unanimously agreed to leave no wounds and;

She was without an ally she was scared, alone.

How would one explain how bad it hurts, when the wounds can't be seen?

So, she sucked it up like a big girl,

Smiled at the jeers, laughed when made fun of and belittled.

She realized that she had no friend even when she had “friends” (a later realization she made)

I tell you she tried seeking comfort in friends but it turned out that— “you are too weak”.

“It was just a joke”,

“You take things personally.”

She tried the friendship thing until she gave up and said. “Well that's not for me either.”

She then bottled it deeper, saying, “ in no time it would be over.”

As we know— everything has an expiration date.

So, the day came slowly but eventually

Her bitterness, waned

But the deed was done.

They had destroyed a cheerful, vibrant angel.

Six years of continuous torture left her in a dark place.

She doubted her worth, second guessed herself everytime.

She concluded that she had low self esteem and found million ways to better herself

Some worked pretty well others I would say... were satisfactory.

My sister has become better, a role model she is.

A pace setter she remains undoubtedly.

And still sometimes the past still tries to seep into the present

(I guess that's the thing with the past it's never past.)

When doubt begins to creep in she challenges it

“Prove to me that I am not good enough!” “Prove to me that I'm unworthy.”

Each time she does this, she is greeted with a loud silence and there she gets her answer.

She was never insufficient or not good enough. There was nothing wrong with her

For there is no evidence to prove her insufficiency

She continues to reiterate this truth day after day,

Most times it comes easy other times more difficult.

She chose to be better instead of bitter,

Chose to be happy and love even if she wants to be angry and hate

Each day she shows up for herself

She says I just want to be a bit better than yesterday even if it is 0.00002 better...

and that makes all the difference

She makes peace that she can't change what's in the past but it's her choice to improve

So she keeps showing up because that's the thing with growth— its a journey that is endless.

She is not where she wants to be but she is far from where she was.

That afraid little girl has evolved to a beautiful woman that does not always doubt her worth.

Cheers to this admirable hero who has healed and is still healing from all internal wounds inflicted.

You are and would always be my hero.

Cheers to all those whose achievement have been downplayed as not good enough.

Cheers to all those who have gone through subtle violence and are still standing, still picking up and mending the pieces.

Cheers to all those who have given up, those whose present are still interwoven with the past,

the past may still be present but darling you survived it and you have all it takes to live through anything life will throw at you.

You may or may not have scars to show for it but that would never make it less as painful.

Your pain, tears are real and valid.

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