I didn’t always know how to smile.
I used to think that I couldn’t smile.
I don’t look at the picture after, not because I’m a macho guy that doesn’t care how he looks.
I don’t look at the picture because I’m afraid I’ll see a smile that I don’t like.
I went almost four years without showing teeth in a picture.
Do you know how tough that is? Enjoying the moment and realizing you should keep your mouth shut, or whoever you’re around might notice your biggest insecurity? Making you instantly ruin whatever moment you thought you were having by a little bit less.
I used to hate my laugh. I thought I laughed like an idiot.
I hated how I sounded talking to people.
I hated speaking to strangers because I used to think people would think I was beneath them.
I never tried to let anybody down. I couldn’t even stand the thought of it. So I chose to do things as perfectly as possible because failing was not an option. Being imperfect just wasn’t an option. I had to do everything perfectly.
I didn’t always like self-help books. I was once a child who read Harry Potter to escape the real world full of muggles. I used to read about three orphan siblings running away from the man trying to take away their inheritance. This same boy used to read books about the world in the year 2800.
I thought about being the first Mexican descent kid to fly to the moon.
I dreamed about becoming president, winning the World Cup, and hoisting the NBA title in the air. This boy used to dream of winning the World Heavyweight Championship at Wrestlemania. Flying to see the Eiffel Tower.
I thought I’d find a girl and marry her. And I wouldn’t have to have girl problems in the future. The same boy watched his parents get into fights. He watched his mom have trust issues. He watched what happened to women when they were correct about their feeling.
This same young boy found a job that paid minimum wage.
This same boy hasn’t stopped working since then.

I still have times when I hate my smile. I pick myself up because nobody else does it well enough. I listen because karma may catch up, and I will learn to speak, and I’ll need someone to hear me out.
Yes, I try and do everything perfectly. No, this is not a typo. I’ll admit it.
I thought it wouldn’t be noticeable. It’s been evident to everyone except me.

I’m working on it. But sometimes, it’s just hard.