My name is Anika. My Mom, Elena, makes pretty pictures for ads. She's an artist! My Dad, David, builds big buildings. He's like a super important boss at the construction place. They both love me very, very much, even if I'm a little different.
See, most kids laugh and cry and get super excited. Me? I mostly watch. It's not that I don't want to feel things, it's just... they don't come easy. It's like trying to catch a butterfly. You see it, you know it's there, but when you reach for it, it flies away.
Mommy and daddy are worried about me. I heard them talking at night. "She's like a little ghost," Mom said to Dad, one evening. "She's here, but she's not here, you know?"
Daddy sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know, dear. I worry about her too. But she's healthy, she's smart... maybe she's just a serious child."
But Mommy wanted me to be like the other kids. She wanted me to giggle and play tag and have lots of friends. I tried, I really did. But it was like following a recipe without knowing what the food is supposed to taste like.
When I was five, I asked for my own room. It wasn't because I didn't love Mommy and daddy. It was because I needed a place where I could be... me. A place where I could read my books and draw my pictures and think my thoughts without feeling like I had to be someone else.
My room became my special place. Mommy helped me decorate it. We put up colorful posters and lots of bookshelves. I had a big desk for drawing and a cozy corner for reading. It was perfect.
School was... interesting. The other kids were like little tornadoes, running and shouting and getting into all sorts of trouble. I mostly stayed on the sidelines, watching. I learned a lot just by observing. I learned who was friends with who, who liked who, and who was mad at who. It was like watching a play, but without a script.
My teacher, Ms. de Leon, was nice, but she was also worried. She told my Mom that I was very smart, but I didn't talk much or play with the other kids. Mommy's face got all sad when she heard that.
So, Mom and dad took me to see a doctor, Dr. Ramirez. He poked and prodded me and asked me lots of questions. Then, he said I needed to see another doctor, a special doctor for feelings, Dr. Cruz.
Dr. Cruz had a room full of toys. She asked me about my feelings. "Do you ever feel... sad? Or angry? Or happy?"
I thought about it. "I understand the concepts," I said. "I can identify them in others. But I do not... experience them in the same way."
"Do you ever wish you did?"
I shrugged. "I do not know what I am missing." I feel my heart knows but I don't know how to show them. My heart feels like want to hide it but my mind wants to Express it. I don't know, I'm confuse.
Dr. Cruz smiled. She said I had something called alexithymia. It was a big word that meant I had a hard time understanding my feelings. She said it wasn't a bad thing, just a different thing.
Mommy and daddy were still worried, but they were also relieved. At least they knew why I was different. Dr. Cruz said I needed to go to therapy, to learn how to understand my feelings better.
Therapy was... okay. I learned about different emotions and how to recognize them in other people. I learned how to smile when I was supposed to be happy and how to frown when I was supposed to be sad. But it all felt fake, like I was just pretending.
Mommy tried everything to help me. She read books about feelings and talked to other parents. She even took me to a special art gallery.
The art gallery was... boring. All the paintings looked the same to me. But then, I saw one that made me stop. It was called "Spoliarium," and it showed a bunch of dead people being dragged away. It was dark and scary and... sad.
I didn't feel sad, not really. But I understood what the artist was trying to say. I understood the pain and the suffering and the... waste.
"What do you think, Anika?" Mommy asked.
"It's... powerful," I said. "It shows how bad things can be."
Mom looked surprised. She said I was very insightful. Maybe, I thought, I wasn't so different after all. Maybe I just understood things in a different way.
But the best thing happened when Mommy's friend, Maya, told her about Sofia, the acting coach. Mommy wasn't sure about it at first. But daddy said we should try it.
So, I met Sofia. She was super fun and bubbly. She said acting was all about pretending to be someone else, about feeling their feelings and saying their words.
"It's like playing make-believe," she said, "but for real!"
I wasn't sure about it at first. But Sofia was so enthusiastic, I couldn't help but get excited too.
We started with simple exercises. She asked me to make different faces. "Show me happy!" she said. "Show me sad! Show me angry!"
It felt silly at first, but then, something strange happened. As I made the faces, I started to feel... something. Not the full emotion, but a little spark, a tiny flicker.
Then, Sofia started giving me scenes to act out. I had to pretend to be a princess, a superhero, a sad clown. I had to say their words and feel their feelings.
It was hard, but it was also... fun. I started to understand how other people felt. I started to see the world through their eyes.
One day, I was acting out a scene where a girl's mother died. I had to cry. I tried to remember what I had learned in therapy, about how to make a sad face. But it didn't work.
Then, I thought about Mommy. I thought about how much I loved her and how sad I would be if she died. And then, the tears came. Real tears.
Mom and Dad were watching. When the scene was over, Mommy ran up to me and hugged me tight. "That was amazing, my dear!" she said. "You were so... real!"
I smiled. "I am.... Learning," I said.
Acting didn't magically make me feel all the emotions all the time. But it gave me a way to understand them, to express them, and to connect with other people.
I still watch people. I still observe. But now, I also participate. I laugh, I cry, I get angry, I get sad. Not always, but sometimes. And that's okay.
Mommy and daddy are happy now. They see that I'm not a little ghost anymore. I'm still Anika, the girl who likes to watch. But I'm also Anika, the girl who can act, the girl who can feel, and the girl who's hiding behind a mask.
My heart is like a building block. It takes time to put all the pieces together. But with a little help from my Mom, my dad, and Sofia, I'm building something strong and beautiful. I'm building a heart that can feel, even if it's in its own special way.