It's it funny how life seems to favor some while others find themselves constantly struggling to get by. I would love nothing more than to say life favors me, but that's not the case. I'm not the worst off, but nothing is what I would call easy. I grew up here in Seoul. I've gone to school with the same kids year after year, struggled to fit in, only to be cast out. Why? It's simple. I may or may not be a little overweight.
I know, it's a hard fact to believe. Or it would be if it wasn't for the fact that I'm sitting here in the kitchen, shoveling a tall stack of buttered up, syrup drenched pancakes into my mouth. It's one of my favorite breakfasts. Do I regret my choice to eat this? Not really. Sure, it's frustrating to listen to my two younger siblings going on at me about my weight. What can I say though? They take after our mother. Scrawny little string beans with crap attitudes. I happened to take after my dad.
Despite my weight, I'm what I would classify as normal. I know it's 'the thing' to be skinny with long flowing hair and the palest of complexions, but life never seemed to want me that way. Instead, I'm chubby with _length_, _natural color_ hair that occasionally goes on the fritz and _color_ skin. I've thought about dyeing my hair for a while now, but my mom always says it would just make me stand out more which is something I want to avoid. The dice have seemingly not rolled in my favor. That's okay though, right? Diversity makes the world unique. At least, that's what my dad told me.
Usually the mornings are pretty calm around here. Not today. My mom finally came home after being who knows where, doing who knows what for the past five days. She didn't even call to let anyone in on her whereabouts. For being the ripe old age of forty-three, she acts like a rebellious teen, going as far as to accusing my dad, her husband of nearly twenty years, that he is not her father and he can't tell her what to do. It's amusing, really. Or it was until she threw something. That's my cue to get out of here.
The walk to school isn't long, maybe fifteen minutes. Once I get there, I'll have another twenty to do whatever I want. By that I mean sit in my seat while I wait for class to start. I know, I really know how to live it up. Party animal right here– yeah, no. I know I'm pathetic. You don't need to remind me, that's what the girls in the bathroom are for.
I'm not going to lie, my thoughts are by far bolder than me. Outwardly, I find it hard to speak, and when I do I stutter and trip over myself. I used to like trying to talk to people, that's why I have three close friends. In all honesty, they're the only ones outside my family I can speak to without an issue. Sad fact is, most people would rather criticize my weight than be friends. That's just how my life is though. As I said, I'm not one of the ones favored by life. I am however certain of one thing: by the end of my time in high school, I promise myself to be able to look in the mirror and not feel bad about what I see staring back at me.
Well, here we are. Home sweet homeroom down in the animation department. Why animation? Again, another simple thing. We're all 'rejects' here. No one judges one another since we're all the outcasts of the school. It's probably the only department that doesn't have bullies in it, and that's something I'm thankful for. Or, at least I don't think there are any bullies…