Stella Hardy<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Contributing Writer<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Hurry up and wait. At least that\u2019s what everyone always tells me to do. My parents always tell me life gets better when I\u2019m older, but how does that help me now? I want more than anything to be free from the other kids and their taunts. The other kids will be gone from my life forever. I know the wounds will heal, and the emptiness will be filled with hope for the future. The monster on the other side of the glass will disappear, I\u2019ll be free from its monstrous image and the barbed thoughts it flings at me. \u201cI don\u2019t need help, that would make me weak\u201d he always tells me. I get that being a man means I need to be strong, but what if I don’t want that? Is being forced down this road of hollow stoicism the path that I wish to tread? People always want to be happy and sad and excited, but he always tells me that \u201cboys don\u2019t cry.\u201d So what? If being a boy means being stoic and strong then I want to be a girl. So why am I trapped on this road of pain? Are they right? Maybe it will be better when I’m older. Maybe I should just…… <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Hurry up and wait. I am finally free from that hell, so where is the happiness everyone promised? I was strong like he said. I walked the desolate road for what felt like centuries and opened the door at the end of the path. Yet, I was met with the same road staring back at me, and the reward was the same road to tread. And again, all I can do is walk. An automaton, a husk, a soulless creature moving through life like clockwork. The glass that once protected me is now shattered on the ground, maiming my feet with every step. And the monster that is my shadow haunts me still. The road\u2019s end crests the horizon. Rocky and worn asphalt followed with a sharp drop, littered with glass and the bones of the travelers before me. Nowhere else to go but forward, and nothing else to do but…… <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Hurry up and wait. The sterile stagnant air fills my lungs as the clock thunders through the barren room. Emotions have long since washed away with the remains of my self-worth, but for the first time in years I feel nervous. Was that dream of being happy just a siren\u2019s call or a premonition of my future? Am I diverting down the correct path? Will it ever make me happy? But I can\u2019t pull myself by my bootstraps if I’m dangling off a cliff. I know I can\u2019t be strong forever, but how can I be weak? \u201cBeing a man\u201d was never what I wanted, so why was I forced down this path of stoicism? My thoughts raced and whirled through me, but they were interrupted as the door to the doctor\u2019s office creaked open, and I knew it\u2019s for me. As I shuffle into the cluttered space, I finally get the feeling that one day I won\u2019t have to…… <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Hurry up and wait. I don\u2019t have to be strong all the time. Being weak is being human after all. And I feel the wounds deep down starting to heal. The scars will remain, but they won’t hurt as much. Every day, the path before me becomes clearer, and the road extends a little further into the distance. And for the first time in my life, the hellish landscape of the road is starting to become more and more heavenly. The monster\u2019s taunts have dulled, and the glass on the path is becoming scarcer. It\u2019s starting to get better, but is it wrong for me to wish it went faster? For as long as I can remember, the hole in my soul ate away at me. Now that it\u2019s starting to give the fractured pieces back, all I want is for it to give all of me back now. I investigate the monster\u2019s glass prison. The glass reformed into a new prison, but the cracks and scratches are permanent scars to its once pristine and illustrious pane. I positioned myself in front of the mirror, eyes shut as tight as they could be. Its regular insults echoed through the back of my mind, but the beast was holding back today. I had enough of its jabs, and I slowly opened my eyes. The tears streamed down my face like a waterfall. For in the monster\u2019s place, was a tearful but happy woman staring back at me. The words that were usually barbs or taunts, instead caressed me like a soft touch. Her appearance was all the reassurance I needed. People can taunt or mock me all they want, but that monster shambling through life is gone. And I will refuse to allow it to take my place again. I am free.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Slow down and wait <\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n Just a little while longer<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Stella Hardy Contributing Writer Hurry up and wait. At least that\u2019s what everyone always tells me to do. My parents always tell me life gets better when I\u2019m older, but how does that help me now? I want more than anything to be free from the other kids and their taunts. The other kids will […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":90,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[7374,7377],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-9199","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-arts-culture","category-opinion","et-doesnt-have-format-content","et_post_format-et-post-format-standard"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp.umpi.edu\/utimes\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9199","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp.umpi.edu\/utimes\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp.umpi.edu\/utimes\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp.umpi.edu\/utimes\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/90"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp.umpi.edu\/utimes\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=9199"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/wp.umpi.edu\/utimes\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9199\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":9201,"href":"https:\/\/wp.umpi.edu\/utimes\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9199\/revisions\/9201"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp.umpi.edu\/utimes\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=9199"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp.umpi.edu\/utimes\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=9199"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp.umpi.edu\/utimes\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=9199"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}