I’ve found myself envying men lately; the ease in which they move through the world. How nice to wake up and not have to spend an hour getting ready to face the world. No hair and makeup worries. Mostly just get up and go. Of course, I realize that I also don’t have to do those things either, but it’s like I just can’t stop myself. The idea of being so exposed is too much to bear; and, honestly, my own reproach is what I fear the most. I can’t stand to see my naked face in the mirror. I want to love it, and sometimes I do, but mostly I feel disgust.

Isn’t that a terrible way to live? So silly, too. Why can’t I give myself the grace I give others?

I also find myself resentful of demands upon my time. I need a certain amount of alone time, and it’s more than most people seem to need. I need time to nap. Time with my books. I even resent the animals constantly pawing at me. I just need some quiet. I need peace. I need to pull into myself and just be for a while.

D says there’s something about me that draws people/creatures to my presence. I find it ironic that the “popular” girl just wants to be left alone.

It’s nice to write here like this again. I want to leave this here, and in a couple of hours, I’ll put on my armor and go out to be a person again.

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