I remember this fairy tale I didn't like as a kid; I'm sure almost everyone is familiar with this fairy tale -- Cinderella. Why I didn't like it, I'm not sure. But that's a tale for another time. 

For now, let's rewind to the past. From what I can remember, these two step-sisters tried to fit their foot into a single shoe, hoping to fill the role of the prince's future wife. I always found it peculiar and a trifle foolish. I mean, why would you try to fit into a shoe that you know will never fit? 

Now let's return to the present. With everything that's been going on, I feel like the two step-sisters -- trying to fit into a shoe that will never fit; trying on a role they were never suited for but still anxiously and desperately hoping they can be what they were never meant to be. I feel inadequate. I feel miserable. I feel defeated.

But see, here's the thing. If I can't fit into that shoe, then why not just buy another one? One that is just my size. Why would I try to confine myself to something? If the shoe doesn't fit, throw it away, donate it, burn it -- but don't keep it. Squeezing your foot into a shoe not your size is painful at least and humiliating at best.

I guess, what I'm trying to say is that even though I may not live up to others' standards, I am my own person. I will not bow down to pressure, expectations, or even my own insecurity -- all of those I threw out of the window a few hours ago. I will be a person who enjoys a waltz with challenges and a battle with expectations.

Whatever anyone's expectations of me are, whether positive or negative, will be noted but not dwelled upon. So for those who think I can't do it, and for I who think that I cannot do it; that I am squeezing into a shoe that will never fit -- just wait till I prove you wrong. I'll smash that fragile glass and buy myself a five-inch red leather patent pumps that fit snugly and watch me sashay down that street with a confident smile and a cheeky twinkle in my eyes, knowing I've triumphed over you and myself. 

I am not those two step-sisters who tried to squeeze into a shoe not their size. I am not Cinderella who waited for someone to rescue her. I am not the cat who tried to eat those nice rats (if I am ever to be a cat, I would be the most physically affectionate one. Preferably with a black coat and deep blue eyes). 

I am me. No one can define me; no one can bring me down -- not even my own self