Confessions Of A Small Town Girl

Things change, a lot, when you move from a small town to a big city, especially when you’re alone. Everything that you see, feel, hear and smell is different in hundreds of dimensions. If you’re not used to cities, at all, then there are chances that you might get lost. Don’t worry, it’s perfectly fine. If you just blend and mould yourself a little, you’ll find your way in.
I come from a background which almost rural, but because I was brought up inside the walls of a castle, I’m used to both the scenarios. I know what it’s like in and out of those walls. There are, of course, things that I’m totally blank about and I realized this only when I moved to study in a city.

I can be really dumb sometimes, but it hurts when you point it out.

I don’t always have the right things to say, and most of the times I end up making a fool out of myself when I open my mouth. I know I’ve said something stupid, or something out of context and boring and I hate it when people say, “That was really lame” or “You’re better off when you don’t speak at all”. To where I’ve come, you don’t see a lot of people like me. I am the kind of person who can be easily bullied or can bully others if they want to. Crazy, right? Well, that’s me. Everyone around here is so perfect that I feel out of place, like I should’ve stayed where I came from. I hate this feeling.

All those pretty girls make me want to wear a paper bag on my head for the rest of my life.

Those perfectly winged jet black eyes, those blood red lips and those beautiful, beautiful outfits are an eye candy. I look at them and I’m like, “Hey! Wouldn’t it be great if I could be one of them too?” The honest truth is that I can’t be and I don’t even try to be. I don’t know the first word about makeup and I look scarier than a horror movie wearing it. The sexiest clothes of all times won’t fit me because of, well I’m too skinny. I look at their pictures and all I’m left with is wow. Maybe that is the one reason I stopped taking my pictures. I’m happy that I’m not that girly a girl, but it also kills me from the inside knowing that I won’t ever be as pretty as them.

Nightlife is a fantasy for me.

I’ve never been to a club and definitely no parties. One, because I stay in a hostel and it’s not possible. Two, because I’m not sure if I can. I think even if I ever get a chance, I’d stand outside the club, stare at the entrance for a good long time and then run off. I want to enjoy it all, every bit of my college life, but I’m also scared that I won’t fit in. Where I come from, is a very calm and quiet place. My deadline is 8 pm. My parties always ended before or around midnight and obviously, we always had an adult with us. I feel like I might miss out on what could be the time of my life, and for what? I’m too, way too scared. I barely know anyone here. I don’t want to be an outsider in the world that I’ve created for myself and am finally adjusting my way into it. I can’t see it turning into debris.

I am a nobody here.

In other words, I’m invisible. People tend to look right through me. They don’t know who I am. It’s been a year now, and I haven’t made many friends. There are a few people I hangout with, but that’s all. There’s no one I can actually go and talk to, about my highs and lows, my feelings, or anything for that matter. I’m glad that the few people I count as friends, do really care. They are the reason I survived my freshman year. But sometimes, that is just not enough. Lying on a Sunday afternoon on my bed, hoping to go out, I wish I had someone to tag along with, someone who won’t leave my side come what may. I long that someone here. I never knew I was this bad at making a place for myself. In school, almost everybody knew me and for all the good reasons. Here, I’m the exact opposite and that, for the same reasons.

It’s sophomore year and almost everybody I know is moving out of the hostel, but I’m not.

I’m not sure who do I move in with and where. The thought of leaving the hostel once occurred to me because I was so done with living alone. I wanted to move in with this one friend, but then she changed plans and I just did not know what to do. Plus, I was now comfortable in the position that I was in. Staying out late nights and being with people (who can be weird as fuck) just doesn’t define me as a person. I’ll eventually get bored of it and I don’t want to be a burden on someone. I’m happy with where I am and I guess it’s okay. I’m not yet ready to face the world outside these guarded walls.

But I don’t want to go back to where I came from.

Contrary to the belief, not everybody changes when they move to a different city. I haven’t and it sucks. I’m the same ol’ introvert who lived in a small town guarded from all the four directions. Moving here hasn’t yet let my guard down. I still think there are honest and nice people in the world, I still think people would want to know me (someday), I still think whatever I had done there to survive would help me here too, and I know I’m wrong. But, I also don’t want to be right. If I’m fine and things are fine, then be it. Let the princess carve her happily ever after.