identity

I got the love for sewing from my grandmother, maybe. I'm not sure because she never taught us how, and I rarely saw he sew, but I remember a couple of years ago, she would take our measurements (all female grand kids) and in a week, we would have the same style of pajamas, then the same style of jacket. I rarely used them, and didn't really appreciate them. They were not my style, plus I've never been great at following orders from authority. I wanted to be an individual who had her own voice. I didn't want to be caged by what society dictates as who I should be. Thank goodness for my mom, she wanted to expose me and my sisters to all sorts of things. She bought us a sewing machine with 15 styles of stitches. It was ok. Again, didn't bother using it because I didn't want to feel compeled to do whatever my mom wanted me to do. But eventually, things changed. I started to embrace the fact that I do not belong to an ordinary household and I am not an ordinary person. Now, I realized that I don't have to tell the world that I am unique, and that I do not wish to conform to norms. It's very obvious from my actions and from how I look.

I still mind if people judge me and assume that they know me just by looking at me, but a certain point, I get why they assume these things. My social skin is different from the popular skin and I can't help it. And if people have eyes, they can't help it either. I just wish they realize that this is not all that I am.