(Short) Ramble On Expanding
I sit with my shoulders curved, often with my arms crossed. When I can, I tuck my legs under themselves or bring them up to my chest. I am quiet in crowded conversation; I've trained myself to listen rather than speak--useful and productive for some things, but holding ground has its place. I stand or sit in corners, keep my things with me on my lap, walk on the edge of sidewalks instead of their middles. I wear muted colors to keep attention away. When I catch myself making wild gestures with my arms, I stop. I don't brag or focus conversations on myself. I regard my accomplishments as minuscule and not to be lauded. I contain myself in a neat package, wrapped up in a bow and sat close to the tree so that others can take the spotlight. I starve myself and my muscles and bones shrink as to fit into smaller sizes of everything, from clothing to shoes to that sliver of space against the wall I have to fit into when bigger personalities pass me by. In all these ways ...
