As you grow up they begin to warn you that your body will change, as if change isn't a constant, as if caterpilers don't turn into butterflies and the winters doesn't turn into the spring. What they dont warn you about is when you begin to question what it means to be confined by your flesh and bone. I don't care if my body changes, am I not still trapped? Why was I not warned of the horrors that lay in wait inside my own head? Why must I be told about the hair on my body and not the growing need to write every feeling down? No, I am shuned because of my feelings, and encouraged by my body. I am mature now. I am made to be looked at, not thought of.