I am not Kate Winslet.
I am not Zach Braff.
I will never be George Lucas.
Or J.K. Rowling, for that matter.
So many things am I not, and so many times am I reminded of those things on any day, that were I to list them all this entry would be longer than fiction, and perhaps stranger than fiction, too.
It is time that we stop focusing on what we are not and start focusing on what we are. Long ago, I chose me. I chose to believe. All that I do and have done is to be the best Jessica Mae Stover that I can in the way that I want to be her in the world where I want to live her life.
There is not a person that I would trade places with, and there never has been. Not even in the sixth grade, not even ever. Not even when I’m angry with myself, or disappointed in myself, or when I slip and allow someone to make me feel that I’m not good enough.
There is no model for what I do.
There is no person that will stop me, even when I feel awful. It always passes. The quest is always on.
I do not want to be on your list. I hope I am forgotten after I am past.
Stories and the way I tell them will last. That is the task I have started. It is the life that I have I always lived and continue to live and will continue to live.
Call it naiveté, idealism… You will not find those words on this site. For those things falter once
set against time but this, this is of something fiercer.
The only way I will be conquered is over my dead body.
You will have to kill me.
If you can.
If you dare.
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