i am strong
i am brave
i am relentless
i never let anything hold me back.
that is what they call me.
And I hate it.
i wish i didn’t want to be normal
because normal is a fallacy, a construct
but it would be really nice to once in a while,
not be praised for the simplest of tasks
not be told how far i’d come
not be told “good job!” like a child.
i don’t want to feel like i have something to prove
like at any point, someone will be shocked that I,
given, well, me,
am doing well here.
i am so goddamn sick of being the success story
the one that made it.
i am so sick of exceeding expectations.
i know you mean well,
and your gentle words are not meant to be malicious
but please,
don’t tell me not to be ashamed,
and then act like i’m made of glass.
The Junction Journal 
Hello Sabrina,
I really enjoyed this poem because it verbalized what it feels like to put on a mask for others. The pressure associated with feeling like you need to present yourself in a certain way can truly destroy people. I have had firsthand experience with this feeling and can truly say it altered my mind. Throughout my childhood I experienced several unfortunate circumstances within my family including losing a family member. As sympathy began to flood in from my community I quickly began to feel like I had to prove that I was “okay.” The word choices that you use in this piece truly capture what it means to feel this way. I was particularly touched by the fourth stanza, “i don’t want to feel like i have something to prove
like at any point, someone will be shocked that I,given, well, me, am doing well here.” The word choices you used here and throughout the poem truly encompassed what it means to feel like you have to perform for people. Specifically, the word “prove” really stuck out to me because half smiles or fake solidarity given by those who are not in your position can oftentimes push people to show that they are more capable. Feeling like you have to overcompensate or smile extra to ensure that people don’t pity you can be extremely draining. I have never seen somebody discuss this feeling before though it was something I felt for a long time.
Best regards, Elana Ulitskaya
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Hi Elana!
Thank you so much for your response! I am so sorry for your loss, and I am glad you could find yourself in these words. The feeling of needing to overcompensate is very powerful and difficult to handle. I have experienced it a lot in my life and I hope this poem reflects not only my experience with this emotion but many others as well.
Thanks,
♥ Sabrina
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This poem really hit me hard. Growing up, I was always the role model. I was the perfect daughter for my parents, with the perfect grades. I was the role model for my classes, always completing my assignments on time with 90% and above. I was constantly getting awards for being the highest in my class. At first, I loved how a perfect grade would make me feel. Eventually, seeing those grades meant nothing to me. It felt more like a chore, being this “perfect” image to everybody, rather than learning for myself. In a way, it did feel like I had to prove something. What really hit me was the beginning, “i never let anything hold me back.” Regardless of anything I went through, I made sure to never let it hold me back. Eventually, people just began saying “oh don’t worry about her, she’s got it” That sentence itself was like boulders on my shoulders, carrying the weight of their expectations.
“i am so sick of exceeding expectations.” This sentence also hit me really hard, because I was tired of carrying these responsibilities, tired of upholding this “perfect” image. The author of this poem truly managed to put into words how it feels to always have to be this certain version of yourself, feeling like you need to prove to other people you can do it, when in reality, you have nothing to prove.
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Ashley,
Thank you for sharing your story and I’m glad to hear that you saw yourself in these words. I have also experienced being on the receiving end of expectations myself and I know how difficult it can be, especially at a young age.
♥ Sabrina
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This poem really connected with me due to the similarities I have faced throughout my life. Growing up, I was always forced to perform at my best even when I’m sick or unable to continue this assignment. And it was draining me down slowly. Originally, I didn’t have a problem with it as I was always excited to enter school to have fun with my teacher and peers. But it slowly caused me to become less active and less enthusiastic with school. I became less interested in school activities and rather spend my time being less proactive. In the end, I was always expected to perform at my 100% even when I was severely ill.
“i don’t want to feel like I have something to prove” really related to me because I was tired of trying to prove that I’m academically ready for anything that comes my way even though I was struggling with any sickness that led me to be less efficient. In the end, I believe the author really tried their best in education and was burnout from all of the expectations they were “required” to achieve by their peers/family. I really connected with this as I was able to relate with someone that struggled to meet people’s expectations.
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Andrew
Thank you for sharing your story and I am glad that you resonated with this piece. I, like you, was a child who loved school and there were definitely some points in my life where burnout had turned that love into hate.
♥ Sabrina
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I really enjoyed reading this poem and felt that it resonated with me. Since I was young, I was told to always have the best grades by my parents, and as I grew older, those expectations started coming from me. When I was recognized for my efforts, it felt rewarding, so I did everything possible to hear those praises again. Overtime, the pressure I put on myself to attain perfection became too much, to the point that I was pushing myself too hard and became burned out too often. I started to only focus on getting the best grades instead of finding things I actually enjoyed. I didn’t realize how much this affected me until I realized I didn’t know what I wanted to do in life or what my passions were. However, everyone still expected me to be the best and looked at me as if I had everything figured out.
The lines “don’t tell me not to be ashamed, then act like I’m made of glass” stood out to me. When people hear that I’m not quite sure what I want to do in the future, they tell me it’s is reasonable and that I shouldn’t “be ashamed” since I’m still young and I have time to figure it out. Yet they hesitate to bring up the topic again as they think I am fragile and might break down “like I’m made of glass.” I think the pleading when the author says “but please” is interesting since many people crave compliments and adore them but sometimes, those compliments become added pressure to a person when all they want is a break or to be noticed for something else.
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Alba,
Thank you for sharing your story and it warms my heart to hear that this piece resonated with you. Those last two lines are actually my favorite of the whole poem; like you said, sometimes people send mixed messages when they want you to see yourself in a way that is different than how they see you. As people, sometimes we can’t help but see ourselves the way others perceive us, which makes us confused about ourselves (at least, this is my experience).
♥ Sabrina
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This post instantly caught my attention. By the end of the first stanza I had already felt understood in words that I couldn’t even convey. “i never let anything hold me back.
that is what they call me. And I hate it” This specifically is what allowed me to instantly gauge what this poem was about or at least my interpretation of it. I so heavily relate to the feeling of this pressure to be strong, driven, and perfect all of the time despite getting absolutely trampled by obstacle after obstacle. I hate that I never get to fall apart, I never get to fail, I never get to struggle. I’m expected to just push through and come out stronger. Some part of me believes this to be true. I always felt the need to be strong not just for me but for everyone else that leans on me. I have often found myself thinking Who do I get to lean on? When do I get to fail? When do I get to fall apart and soak in that feeling for more than a millisecond before I have to problem solve.
I love the choice to finish the poem with the line “and then act like I’m made of glass”. Over the last couple of days before posting my comment I have reread this a few times trying to narrow down what this meant more clearly. At first glance at that line and the title alone I thought of when my grandfather would tell my brother and I “Is your father a glass maker?” whenever we would block his view of the tv so I initially interpreted this use of glass as a way to say you’re being overlooked. Now on my final read of the poem I thought about it again but this time I thought about the way the rest of the poem made me feel and took into account the lines leading up to the final one. People have told those who have repeatedly gone through hardships, struggles, trauma, or have just been dealt the short end of a stick one too many times that it’s something we should be proud of and almost wear it like a badge of honor. Yet in that same breath they’ll have a pitiful look on their face as they’re emptily saying they’re sorry and other blanket sympathetic phrases because deep down they see you as fragile as glass waiting to be dropped or thin ice waiting to be stepped on. You perfectly highlighted how alienating it is to be an overly adultified child/young adult who is somehow also simultaneously stuck feeling infantilized.
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Elizabeth,
Thank you for sharing your thoughts and story with me. I didn’t consider glass as meaning overlooked when I wrote it, but I think it could fit as well. I meant being made of glass as being easily breakable, like you said.
♥ Sabrina
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