I am not the average person. I came to America at a young age. I was never a leader, but I wanted to. If I wasn’t so shy I could say a lot of things. I was bullied because I was different. The bullies well they looked just like me, but they were different. What they saw was a skinny girl who had a funny name. I had to work hard for several years to prove to myself that I wasn’t a skinny girl who actually had a voice. I was told that I had a mind and was smart. It took me years to get over that image in my mind. I hated the word skinny or boney. I perfered slender and smart. On the outside I didn’t look like all the other girls. On the inside past the hand me down clothes and the wannabe charm. I was a girl who just wanted to be accepted, loved, and cherished. It has taken me half of my life to look at food to be a friend and not a bad thing. I could eat so much and still not be full. If I didn’t have a safety net of people to remind me who I really am I would have become a very bitter person. See this is not a sob story. No this is a survivor’s story. I can be anyone, anywhere, or anybody. No I am not a typical person. I am me. I am a human being who wants to be loved and cherished. Look past my broken heart because it has been shattered to pieces too many times. I just keep on putting on a bandage to cover the wounds. I worked hard to make a life for myself. I just have to find somone to accept me. Broken heart and all.