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.