Am I too old to write to you again? They keep asking me questions, so many questions. She is
a girl or a woman yet ? But they can’t hear me, they can’t see. Question marks guide my
body, my choices, my voice, my mind.
Should I speak the truth.
What am i? What I will be? What I should be. I am as soft as cactus’ body. Free like a caged
bird in its beautiful prison. Fragile like a plastic doll. I find piece in a body and mind that lies
to everyone who ask too many things.
They gave me reasons, words to speak their own truth, options that lead me to their own
paths, clothes to dress my body and stereotypes to live my life. They taught me how to love
but not too much, feel sexy but not that naughty, happy but always scared to lose it all, to
believe in myself by lying to everyone else.
My eyes, my holy, serene but strong eyes. My lips , how the speak louder when they are
locked, closed. My body, how freely dances without even moves.
I am sorry mommy but did you expect that?
Goodnight Diary,
Your bold little Girl.
Photographer: Plousia Rompogiannaki
Hair Stylist: John Manolakis @Blue Tit London
Makeup Artist: Bella Simonsen
Model: Emily Reda @emilyrreda @Mandpmodels
Photographer: Plousia Rompogiannaki
Stylist: Symela Fotiadi @sima.ftd
Writer: Eyridiki Chatoyant
Retoucher: Iris Georgiadou
