Impostor

When I was a child, I would lie to adults

about things I knew

and things I didn’t. 

I purposefully got questions wrong

on tests far too easy for me

and would wait five minutes after I finished

to turn them in. 

I asked questions I knew the answers to

and I would laugh along to jokes I didn’t like. 

I do not know “me” without another

and I have no personality alone. 

Everything I know about myself, I learned from others. 

Everything I know about beauty, I learned from ugliness. 

Everything I know about gentleness, I learned from the cold.

I perform the role of myself daily. 

It is not natural and it is exhausting. 

I lie to the friends

that I adopted a personality that is not mine

to make and maintain. 

Prescription tretinoin clearing my skin

and soft warmth radiating from my body;

the stench of vanilla perfume and manipulation. 

All this effort to make it look effortless. 

I have played a role for so long that I do not know myself without it. 

I am an impostor to myself—

I’ve created a life I am in love with, 

friends and family I adore,

but I fear that it is not my own. 

I fear I am not my own. 

• Augustana College
• college
• college life
• friendships
• mental health
• relationships