If I had to choose one fictional character I relate to the most, it wouldn’t be someone from a fairy tale or a perfect heroine with no flaws.
It would be you.
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A girl who walked into friendships thinking they’d last forever, only to watch them turn into battlefields. Friends became enemies, their words sharper than knives, their rumors like poison in the air. You cried—oh, you cried enough to fill rivers. But those rivers didn’t drown you; they made you stronger.
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You’re not the old scared little thing anymore. You don’t hide in the corner, hoping they’ll forget you exist.
Now, you walk with your head high.
You don’t take revenge—because you know you don’t need to—but the fire in your chest burns hot enough that if they ever try again, you have more than enough ideas to defend yourself.
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Yes, you have your flaws—anger that comes like summer storms, fights with your sister that shake the house—but you’re real. You feel. You fight. You survive.
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And maybe that’s why I relate to you the most. Because you’re not perfect, and you don’t pretend to be. You’re learning, you’re toughening up, and you’re still standing.
And in a world like this, that’s not just a story.
That’s a victory.
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and then Add to home screen.