People will tell you that you have to learn from your mistakes. That if something isn't working, it needs to be changed. But if you change too much, they will tell you that they don't recognize you anymore. Apparently, change is only acceptable if it's on everyone else's terms and not your own. Pretty ironic, don't you think?

I learned about the irony of human behaviour first hand. Not only thanks to the words of adults but also the fists of my peers. Reality is learned the hard way, and I can only attest to that. Fortunately for me, all I needed to save me was a change. First, I changed the town, and then myself.

I moved out of this town when I was 13. I didn't mind. I didn't have many friends here, and although I mourned the loss of those few, I knew that a new beginning could mean that it could be my last cry.

And as a bullied child, I had had enough of crying.

They called me names, stole things from me, and when they thought that wasn't enough, they decided to move on to punches. More than once I came home with bruises, and although my mother tried to solve the problem, no one cared about the quiet child from a poor family.

And then, like a miracle from heaven, my stepfather was offered a job with a higher salary. It was several hours away, but none of us minded. And so we moved out. It meant we could finally afford a nice house and new clothes, and my parents could finally afford to start saving for the wedding. For me personally, it meant finally having a real chance to enjoy school, and I honestly couldn't wait.

Now I was back. Back in Misthall, where I spent endless nights crying myself to sleep, where not only me but my mother was accused of lying, and where I never felt like I fit in. But that was my old self. My new self, I honestly wasn't sure if people here could even recognize me now.

Four years is a long time, and I decided to make the most of it. I changed the way I look, the way I act, and even my hobbies. From a quiet child who loved to read, I was now a young man who liked to play soccer. Of course, this was also reflected in my body structure. I was no longer skinny, my body had gained muscle, and I had also gained a few inches in height thanks to puberty.

I contributed to other changes myself. My once long blond hair, which was constantly falling into my eyes, was today cut short and dyed brown. Thanks to a slip in the rain when I was 15, I now had a visible scar on my left eyebrow that left a gap in it that most people found oddly attractive. And my freckles, which I was once ashamed of and secretly covered with my mother's makeup, now shone on my face and were a sign that I spent a lot of time outdoors thanks to training.

The last change I made was the least natural. I practically begged my mom to go with me to a beauty clinic and get acid injected into my lips when I was 16. She protested at first, but when I explained that it was my biggest insecurity, she agreed. A year has passed since then, and my lips have not shrunk to their original size, which I was happy about.

I was finally happy with how I looked. And apparently, if you radiate contentment and self-confidence, making friends is not a problem. In the time I lived in Gladwater, I made quite a few, but none I was as close to as the friends I left behind in my old town. That way I found out that I can't have everything, so I settled for popularity instead of close friendship. Popularity ensured that people approached me with invitations to go out instead of invitations to meet their fists, and nothing suited me better.

Things were finally looking bright for me, and although I wasn't completely happy, it was better than anything I had experienced before. At least for a while.

Now it was time to meet the ghosts of the past and make sure that my hard-earned happiness was not so easily destroyed. It sounded simple, didn't it? Whatever the answer, I know one thing for sure. This time I will not run from the fight.