Amidst the roaring applause, a silent tear fell,

Reflecting the untold story she could never tell.

Because all they see is her sparkly makeup, and the tulips on the stage.

Her bright blue eyes, wide as she watched the crowd.

She’s been doing this since she was a child.

Now, nearing 17, why was she still surprised?

Perhaps there was something behind it all.

A dream so close, yet just out of reach.

Like a whisper in a crowd.

Maybe this was never what she wanted.

She was barely 6 when she decided to do this. Or did she?

Did she really choose to do this?

No.

Her father told her to.

At least, he told her she’d be a disappointment if otherwise.

Perhaps that is why she’s still here,

Standing on the stage.

Because of her fear.

Because she needs to impress.

She needs to live up to her father’s standards.

No matter how high.

She needs to be perfect.

But no matter how hard you may try.

No matter how far you get.

Or how pretty you are.

No one can be perfect.

“Perfect,” is a lie.

An illusion made to turn everyone against each other.

Even against one’s own self.

Maybe that’s why you have to let go.

Let go of the illusion.

Of these games.

This foolery.

This is why you need to let go of your fears.

And this is why she didn’t look back.

No once, as she walked off that stage.

Others have done it.

So why can’t she?

What’s keeping her from just walking away, and leaving this game?

A game made specifically so that no one could win.

One’s own self,

Is all that can hold someone back.

Nothing else, and no one else.

You just have to do it.

Atelophobia:

An extreme fear of imperfection.