The Eagle’s Cry Guest Essay – THE MONSTER


Gabrielle McGlynn, Guest Writer



When we’re around five, we fear the things that lurk in the dark, the things that hide under our beds or in our closets, but we never know why. That’s what we do; that’s what we’ve been doing. Humans go with the flow and play follow the leader, and that’s how our society is shaped. When you think about it, it’s depressing. But finally for me, the madness stopped completely, just about a year or so ago.

When I was the at the rightful age of three, I was told I could be anything I wanted to be,  and fell into it heart first. I wasn’t a tomboy or a girly girl, but special. I would have my collection of 20 Barbies while watching Teen Titans, and dream of fighting beside the great detective and his trusty sidekick., not giving much thought to what I wore or what I looked like. And I didn’t care what people thought about my interests because that’s what I was originally told.

As I started getting older, I got smarter, a bit quieter, and the pieces started coming together. The little whispers started telling me things. They grew louder and louder and started shouting at me ¨That’s ridiculous,¨and ¨They’ll make fun of you.¨ The thing is….it wasn’t just in my head. In the days I attended middle school, the whispers started screaming at me ¨They’re going to think you’re weird” and ¨Stop being stupid, you have expectations to beat.¨ While these sounds were rumbling through my head, I knew I wasn’t alone; and I definitely wasn’t the only one suffering. The ugly thing had spread like the plague.

So now we end up just about a year ago or so. It’s not something I got from the latest NYC socialites or Hollywood’s barbies or even the great Gandhi himself, but a mirror. A mirror. I had earned my self confidence, and it was beautiful. Every single part of me. Finally I had figured out that no matter if my hips weren’t curvy enough, or my eyes blue enough, or my hair brown enough that it was quite alright. I now know that I don’t need curves, my eyes are as blue as the Caribbean Sea, my hair is the perfect brown, and that’s me. The perfectly wonderful me.

So please, don’t listen to what the latest Times article says about your weight, or your height, or your sexual orientation, or if you need to eat less. The ugly truth is, society is blind and confused. They have no idea what color blond is the right blond, or how smart you have to be to not be considered stupid.  They tell kids they’re too skinny after presenting to them this hot new diet for the beach and judge a person by their looks immediately after saying looks don’t matter. The beast claims you can be interested in whatever you want, but still tells you what you enjoy is pointless.

Society is the monster.

It’s the one that hides under beds, behind your clothes, in every dark corner, and makes you shiver in fear for no reason. They are the reason people can barely get some shut eye or a single string of Zs.

This is not permanent, you are not permanent. Someone on Red Band Society once said,¨Your body isn’t you, your soul is you, and they can never cut into your soul.¨ This is only a shell. A wonderful, beautiful, perfect shell.