TINY- Bethany Pace (Part 1)

 8:00 am

(maybe)

The time I was born (probably)

My grandfather saw me and the word, “tiny”, fell from his chapped lips.

From then forth I was called the utterly, embarrassing nickname, tiny.

It was more so related to my size (at the time), but to me, it meant more than my appearance.

My patience was tiny, my ego was tiny, and my sense of security was tiny.

My ambition was always there, but I was always afraid of doing things on my own.

Always forced my mother into drawing the dotted lines before I attempted to trace letters onto paper.

My brothers and my feet always met the ground in the place I wanted them to meet.  

My ambition was not so tiny.

I grew up learning that things, and people are taken for granted.

I also grew up learning hidden lies.

Lies that a family could stay together, that it was okay to be happy, and that the world would allow you to carry happiness into your dark, secluded, wooden coffin.

My hope grew tiny.

       Arguments and broken promises were the foundation of my childhood.

The occasional trip that we couldn’t actually afford.

Nothing out of the blue, just a distant father and a facade of a mother.

Everything eventually shatters, and reveals the truth.

The sight of closure was tiny.

My desire to write grew from experiences.

The sun seemed to be brighter, the grass seemed to be greener, the clouds seemed to be more attainable, the trees seemed to be taller, vines seemed to curl in many different new directions when I actually searched.

My imagination wasn’t tiny.

12,

Hair constantly in undoable tangles, just like my thoughts.

The era of trying to create someone I wasn’t, began.

I soon began to realize that, “tiny”, was an adjective that couldn’t describe my appearance anymore.

My confidence then grew tiny.

           5’4, 5’5, 5’6, 5’7, 5’10

I didn’t think I’d ever level out.

I just kept growing, and growing eventually toppling over the majority of my peers.                                                           

I always learned that girls were supposed to be short, right?

A girl shouldn’t have more power than a boy.

Dominance and submissive, it didn’t quite fit my situation, did it?

I wasn’t, tiny.

14,

I wasn’t prepared for the water I was being thrown into.

“Sink or swim”

Boys of course, the most important thing to a teenage girl.

(lots of sarcasm in that statement)

There were the boy crazy girls, and if you weren’t boy crazy you were lesbian.                                     

Unless of course it was out of your control and you weren’t the prettiest wildflower in the field.  

The respect immature boys had for girls, including my choice significant other, was tiny.

It’s a learning experience to realize the difference between want and deserve.

My tolerance was large, and I thought i was doing myself a favor.

Lies, love, and unfinished apologies

Young love is an extraordinary thing to partake in.

(even more sarcasm)

The love someone has for you in their heart is not equal to the love they have for you in their belt buckle at 14, 15, and 16.

The luminescence may look the same, but it definitely does not feel the same.

My popularity was tiny.

 
                                                       “Sometimes quiet is violence”