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“You’re just naturally smart.” God, if I had a dollar for every time someone said that like it was a compliment and not an erasure. Like I didn’t stay up until 2 a.m. rewriting the same sentence until it stopped sounding stupid. Like I don’t study so hard my head aches and my hands shake and still— I ask if it’s enough. You see the A. You don’t see the anxiety attack that came with it. You think I’m blessed. I think I’m breaking. But I smile. I nod. I wear the ******* mask handed to me years ago. You know the one— polished, polite, never tired, never slipping. God forbid I admit it’s hard. God forbid I’m human. Because when people think you’re gifted, they stop giving grace. No praise. No comfort. Just more pressure. Higher bars. Climbing higher and higher until you drop Silence when you succeed— disappointment when you don’t. And what makes me furious? It’s not even the work. It’s the way no one sees it. No one wants to see it. Because if I struggle, it ruins the story they’ve built about me— and that’s not allowed. So I keep my mouth shut. I play the part. I ace the test. I burn out quietly. And they call it effortless. But one day, I will set this mask on fire. Watch it melt into the truth you refused to see. I am not effortless. I am not lucky. I am not your idea of perfection. I am the hours you ignore. The fight you never saw. The storm behind the stillness. And I’m done shrinking just to keep you comfortable. If you won’t see my work, then you don’t deserve my wins. From now on, I’ll take up space— loud, flawed, brilliant. Human. And I will not apologize for the fire that made me me.
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Sep 8, 2025
Sep 8, 2025 at 9:58 PM UTC
“Effortless”
“You’re just naturally smart.” God, if I had a dollar for every time someone said that like it was a compliment and not an erasure. Like I didn’t stay up until 2 a.m. rewriting the same sentence until it stopped sounding stupid. Like I don’t study so hard my head aches and my hands shake and still— I ask if it’s enough. You see the A. You don’t see the anxiety attack that came with it. You think I’m blessed. I think I’m breaking. But I smile. I nod. I wear the ******* mask handed to me years ago. You know the one— polished, polite, never tired, never slipping. God forbid I admit it’s hard. God forbid I’m human. Because when people think you’re gifted, they stop giving grace. No praise. No comfort. Just more pressure. Higher bars. Climbing higher and higher until you drop Silence when you succeed— disappointment when you don’t. And what makes me furious? It’s not even the work. It’s the way no one sees it. No one wants to see it. Because if I struggle, it ruins the story they’ve built about me— and that’s not allowed. So I keep my mouth shut. I play the part. I ace the test. I burn out quietly. And they call it effortless. But one day, I will set this mask on fire. Watch it melt into the truth you refused to see. I am not effortless. I am not lucky. I am not your idea of perfection. I am the hours you ignore. The fight you never saw. The storm behind the stillness. And I’m done shrinking just to keep you comfortable. If you won’t see my work, then you don’t deserve my wins. From now on, I’ll take up space— loud, flawed, brilliant. Human. And I will not apologize for the fire that made me me.
Hi! This is a poem I wrote about trying to be seen. Enjoy!
Written by
16/F/Canada
Sep 8, 2025
Sep 8, 2025 at 9:58 PM UTC
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