Chapter 18 Be Kind

Today was a hard day for me. Nothing particularly bad happened, at least not in terms of my external surroundings. Nobody said anything bad to me, everything went my way, and the people I ran into were particularly nice. It's just...I felt horrible throughout the day. I felt horrible because of one particular reason.

The truth is...I didn't exactly tell you about that one event from my childhood by accident. I had been thinking about it all day. Last night was a night where it randomly popped into my head, and I just couldn't let it go. That happens to me a lot; where I randomly think about one event I've experienced or one person I had interacted with and just...hyperfocus on them. Does that happen to you, Junior? No? Okay. I guess it's just a me thing.

Well….anyway….

That one event, with the dream? It's one that I had...actually kind of forgotten about for a while. Maybe it's because I really wanted to forget? I'm not sure. But either way, I had forgotten about it. I had buried that event in my suitcase along with the girl who I had been before.

But, whether because the suitcase had gotten knocked off the shelf or someone had said something that prompted me to take it down...I remembered it. I remembered the dream. And...I cannot tell you HOW this was the case...but thinking about it this time around was actually worse than when I had initially had the dream. The way my siblings yelled at me, the way that they jeered at me for potentially being infected with gender specific germs...it was awful! And what hurt so much was me trying to envision what they would say now. They obviously wouldn't worry about cooties at the ages they are at, so what would they do instead? Underestimate me? Hate me?

I was thinking about this at lunch this afternoon. Of course, since I was in the dining hall, I was surrounded by my brothers. They chatted away like they didn't have a care in the world, all smiles for the most part. Junior…

I cannot tell you the last time I felt so lonely amongst them.

I couldn't talk to them. I couldn't. My thoughts were just...too strong. If my thoughts had a physical form, they would use that form to physically beat me up. I was so engulfed in them that I had trouble eating my food. Should I have felt that way? Probably not. But I did.

"Hey guys!" Larry said at the head of the table. "I was thinking...do you think we could go to, say, a football game sometime in the future?"

Roy's face lit up. "Oh, yes! That would be amazing! I bet that we could even get seats close to the action!"

"Of course it is entirely possible," said Iggy. "But I believe that we should discuss this with Bowser."

"Fair enough," said Larry.

I..actually perked up when I heard this conversation. Remember, I liked sports when I was a little girl. And hearing this conversation took me back to those days. The days where I would participate in activities like without worrying about how I appeared from the outside. I wondered; did that part of me still exist? I had spent so long trying to wear my femininity on my sleeve that I couldn't answer that question. Could I still be the girl who allowed herself to embrace her masculine side, even every once in a while?

"Hey," I said. All eyes turned toward me. "Do you think, if we went to a football game, I would be able to come too?"

Larry blinked before snickering. "You want to come?"

I slowly nodded. "Y...yes."

Iggy adjusted his glasses. "Of course you may come, Wendy! Observing football games play out is inherently a social activity, and we would want you to participate in it just as much as we want you to participate in other social activities."

I breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. Thank you."

Larry, however, still looked at me with a raised eyebrow. "I'm sorry. I'm still trying to wrap my mind around this; you want to come to a football game?"

I sunk into my chair a little. "Yes?"

"Why?" Larry asked. "You've never cared about sports before."

I sunk even deeper into my chair. Larry had probably been too young to remember the time when yes, I did care about sports.

"I...I just...I...well…"

"Wendy, it's fine. Don't listen to Lawrence; you are more than welcome to come," said Iggy.

I sighed and looked down at my golden bracelets. I felt the red bead necklace that I always wore around my neck. I felt my bow. All of these accessories had served as symbolizes of my femininity for years. Never before had I been so desperate to take them off as I was then.

But at the same time, I was scared to take them off. Frightened, actually. Who would I be if say, I di embrace that part of myself, the part of myself that I had long since buried. Would I like myself? Would others like me? Or would they look at me with raised eyebrows and wide eyes because I was so...for lack of a better term...weird?

"Excuse me," I said, and got up from the table. I felt so strange; I didn't feel like crying, shouting, yelling, being aggressive, or doing anything else that people might view as inherently negative. I didn't feel like doing any of that stuff. I just...felt…

I don't know.

I made my way back up to my room. I observed it; its pink walls, pink carpets, pink drapes, pink bedsheets. I never realized it before, but I had used a lot of pink in my decor. What was wrong with using a different color? Blue for example; I liked blue. I liked blue a lot.

But would it be acceptable?

I sighed. I didn't know. I really didn't know, and the fact that I didn't know killed me. I wanted to be one thing, but people...the world expected me to be something different.

But...was it the world, or was it just me? I thought back to the dream. That was exactly what it was; a dream. Nobody had been pressuring me, nagging me, berating me...nobody had done any of that stuff in real life. This whole struggle, and all the drama and baggage that had been produced by the struggle, had been entirely self generated.

I recoiled at that thought. Despite it being the truth, I couldn't help but feel disgusted by it. What did that make me? A drama monger? Someone who had impossible expectations for herself? Someone who didn't even have enough confidence in herself to say that she liked what she liked?

This time, tears sprung to my eyes. I exited my room, my blindingly and hideously pink room. I couldn't believe this. I spent the better part of ten years trying to cover up the real me. Literally; I had hidden my face from the world using mountains of make up. I had turned myself into something I wasn't, something that I wasn't even one hundred percent sure if I liked, all in the name of living up to some impossible standard. The criteria the world had for the perfect girl was unattainable. The criteria I had for the perfect girl was unattainable.

I walked down the hall. In times like this, there was only one person who I could turn to who could aid me, pick me up out of this horrible rut. I went down the stairs, exited the east wing, and walked all the way to Bowser's room. Yes, my adopted father. He was the one who could aid me in this time. I knocked on the door, and he answered it within no time at all.

"Hey, Bowser. Can I talk to you?"

Bowser blinked, but nodded regardless. "Of course."

I entered the room and took a seat in a chair that was right next to his bed. I sighed as he made his way over.

"What's the problem?" he asked as he sat on the bed.

I dried a tear from my eye. "I don't know what I want to be?"

Bowser blinked again. "What do you mean?"

"Well...I had spent so much of my life trying to be a girlie girl. And yet...I don't know if that is the image I want people to see." I sighed. "I don't want to worry about half the stuff I worry about, and yet, I do. But...I can't not worry about them because I've worried about them for so long." I put my head in my hands. "I want to be someone different, but...I'm afraid."

Bowser smiled, but not in a teasing way so much as a loving way. "Why are you afraid?"

"I...I don't know. I guess I just don't know what kind of person I want to be."

Bowser nodded, his face serious now. "Well, if you want to be a different person, there' nothing wrong with that."

"I know. Everyone says that, but the world expects me to be a certain way."

Bowser furrowed his brow. "I don't expect you to be a certain way. I expect you to be you, whatever that may be."

I bit my lip. "Well...I'm scared of me. I'm afraid of who I might see underneath all the makeup and accessories."

Bowser chuckled. "You don't have to be. Wendy, we live in a world where you can be whatever you want, whoever you want?"

"But...I want to be the right thing!"

Bowser smiled. "Then be kind."

I blinked. "What?"

"Wendy, there is literally no right way for someone to live their life. Each person has a different path that they will inevitably go down. Sometimes, that path might be hard for that person. But, if you try your best to be kind, and loving, and thoughtful, and considerate...well, you'll make life easier for everyone. You'll be able to make a difference in a person's life; a positive difference." He smiled. "I believe that the one surefire way to know if you are doing the right thing is when you are trying to be kind to others."

I pondered this. "Kind to others…." That made sense. And that was what I strived to be in my life. I wanted to be kind. I wanted to be loving. Even when I wasn't certain in what I should be, I wanted other people to be certain in what they wanted to be. It was the least I could do. Not only that, but...it made me happy doing it.

I smiled. "I can do that."

Bowser grinned. "Awesome!" I started to get up and leave. Just as I exited the door was when he said something else. "Wendy?"

"Yeah?"

He looked at me warmly. "You're beautiful no matter what you choose to be."

I blushed. "Thanks, Bowser. I needed to hear that."

…

"And that's where you came in," Wendy said.

Junior wrote down the last few words before looking back up at his sister. He had a smile on his face, a very nice smile. "That was a nice thing lof him to say."

Wendy smiled. "I thought so too."

Junior nodded and looked down at the words he wrote. "Be kind…" That was something he himself needed to practice, but he knew that Wendy would probably excel at doing that, if she liked doing it anyway. "Well, I got two stories from you." He grinned and closed the notebook. "I'm going to go find Morton next. I am genuinely curious about what he could potential say."

Wendy nodded. "Okay. You do that."

With that, Junior left the room. As he did, he couldn't help but notice a warm feeling in his heart. He smiled. He didn't know why it was there, but boy, did he appreciate it.