‎As an avid reader, I live by this age-old mantra. I never have and never will judge a book by its cover. The best books are often the ones with battle scars. When I look at myself in the mirror, I can’t argue that I’m a bit of a closed book. Well, I wouldn’t be… if someone bothered to look.

I was born in the year 1997. I don’t remember much about the 90’s, just that the first three years of my life was located there. As the millennium changed, so did I. I grew older. Wiser. I realized something about the world. I learned that it is unfair and unjust, biased, rigged, whatever you want to call it, and if you wanted to succeed, you needed to be what’s new, what’s happening. I was never going to be that girl.

I was always heavier than most children my age, and I didn’t know it was such a big deal until I attended school. For the first time, I realized that I was different and that it would mean many years of heartbreak and insecurities. And trust me…there have been many. Just thinking about it now brings back horrid high school memories. But if anyone bothered to ask me how I was, they would find that behind the exterior, the outside of me that so few found appealing, there’s a person who wants to change the world. There’s a person who works hard for everything she’s ever wanted. There’s a person who has cried herself to sleep countless times because the world’s opinion of her isn’t favourable.

Sure, I smile and nod and act as if it were all fine, but it isn’t. I’m living a minuscule life because of bullies and ignorant people. If people bothered to look through my smiling eyes, they would see I’m lonely and terrified of changing that. They judge me by my cover, a cover they’ll never get to experience. It’s easy to say “Oh, I’m sure she stuffs her face with junk food. That’s why she looks the way she does”, but it’s not easy for someone in my position to hear it. Still, I must be the metaphorical and literal ‘bigger person’ and laugh it off. At some point, my laughter will end and I will become this depressed and deprived-of-love person. I don’t want to be that person…and I won’t be. If they looked past my cover, they would see what I’ve been through and they will acknowledge that I am strong and brave, because I am.

They’ll never know. To them I’m the timid fat girl who’ll end up working in some dead-end job, afraid of taking chances and afraid to find love. But that won’t be me, because that is not who I am. I’m crazy, I’m wild, I’m so much more than they will ever be. I’m no longer going to adhere to their perceptions of me. So, read this and weep, world. The girl with the unpretty cover, is actually pretty brilliant and it’s a shame you’ll never get to know her.