That I’m here..secretly

Growing up I was always the odd one out. My family, are all outgoing, loud, charming, and confident. They were good at everything. You know, the overall "popular" crowd while I am the exact opposite. I was only recognized because I was the little sister or the quiet one. I did get good grades but I could never keep up with their achievements. Anyway, I was never good with conversations because as they say, I wasn't good with words.That was when I first started to write. It was a journal of my feelings. But not the dear diary type but more like a Prose in form of paper and pen. I wrote poems about how my day went, how i was feeling or just what i think about things. I didn't have anyone to talk with because my family doesn't tolerate being emotional. It's a weakness that i should overcome as they say. Until one of them found it and read it out loud during a family reunion.

They laughed and mocked me. It was traumatizing when all your emotions, were put out there to be laughed at. So i stopped. Until now, ofcourse. Nobody knows except you guys.