"Help, I lost myself again, but I remember you." The lyrics of Six Feet Under floated around in my head. I had lost myself many times before. Everytime I had gotten hurt, I lost a part of myself. But I always remembered. I always remembered who hurt me and how I was hurt. Forgiveness and Resilience didn't exist in my dictionary for a long time. When forgiveness did appear in my dictionary, I did forgive, but I never forgot. It was as simple as that.

I was never resilient though. No point. I knew I'd just spiral back down to the bottomless pits of despair and hopelessness in the deepest darkest recesses of my mind. So why try to climb out? Why bounce back?
Change was consistent, dynamic. I hated it.

It was unpredictable, it was nerve-wracking. It pissed me off because I never knew what would happen next. It was like waiting for something but not knowing what for. The fact that my entire life had literally just been flipped on its head was simply devastating. I wasn't going to be able to cope.

Joy was very rare in my life. I had very few joys in my life. Music, food, ice cream and art. Everything else was a drag on my emotions. They were all killing me.

The need to feel pain to even remotely feel alive was one of my problems. The emotional pain was enough to make it seem like I had a numbing agent for everything emotional. When the wound was deep, it took a long time for the pain to go.

My emotions were only used sparingly now. No extreme usage was allowed. Or so my heart said. No more nights of crying into tissues and toiletrolls because I wasn't good enough.

The consequences of my actions would always come find me, but as of then? I didn't care about them. I wasn't too bothered. My happiness was much more important to me than the consequences.

Even if that was just for now. Or at least that was what I told myself then.

I was always an expressive child. Well, not on my face or via word of mouth, but I had the talent of portraying emotions and situations in more than one way. I loved to dance. Dancing told heartfelt stories better than the words could sometimes.

I loved to sing. Singing portrayed my emotions better than the words that randomly came to my head. I felt that whenever I sang, it was as though I could feel the exact emotions that the artiste had felt in the process of writing their song.

I wasn't a very good writer, not unless, you counted someone who got 3/20 in English tests and assignments. So, yeah, I was pretty crappy at writing. But storytelling. That was my favourite part of me. I knew how to create beautiful stories in less than a second. I could weave worlds with the silk threads of my imagination. My almost unlimited imagination. But the honest truth was, talent was never enough. It wouldn't ever be. Yes, almost. I still couldn't imagine a future for my life.

Now that I think about it, I could actually live an independent life, or I could get married to the love of my life and have as many children as we wanted.

Of course, I didn't need to imagine to conjure that vision. That was what almost every girl wanted. With the exception of a few that wanted fully independent lives. Independent of men I think.

Feminists they called themselves.

The amount of narcissist, chauvinists and misogynists in the world today seemed to increase every single day, with the growing numbers of feminists. The misogyny steadily grew as women fueled it with their talks of feminism.

I didn't have a say though. I didn't involve myself in such conversations anymore. They weren't worth it. I couldn't classify myself as a feminist or not a feminist. As far as I knew, I couldn't consider myself a lady. So what was my say? What even was feminism?