Being “me” just got complicated

Being+me+just+got+complicated

They say,

Be perfect, but have substance.

Be happy. Don’t be annoying.

Dress nicer. Stop trying so hard.

Voice your opinion. Shut up.

Be experienced. Be innocent.

Don’t be shallow. Stop forcing your problems on others.

Fight back. Be softer

Have style. Cover up, it’s distracting.

Grow your hair out. It looked better short.

Get excited. Stop flaunting your success.

It’s okay to cry. Stop being a cry baby.

Have goals. That’s impossible.

Be you, but only the version of you that is everything we tell you to be plus more.

Be smart. Teachers’ pets.

Be unique. Don’t be weird.

Have friends. Nobody likes you.

Be busy. Make time for everyone.

Be athletic. That’s not a sport.

Be you, but only the version of you that is everything we tell you to be plus more, because we like to make your life difficult. 

You tell me all of these things and then wonder why I am confused about my identity. 

Stop telling people to “be yourself” and proceeding to list a thousand things they can and can’t do.

If you want to know who I truly am, then let me be me, not some robotic version forced to mold into whatever “me” you can handle that day.