I'm not a Victim

One day while walking down judgement and critical people  blvd. I ran into you. It was only while saying our good byes that I realized the hidden tone that was laced in between your woven words of nothing. It hurt. Some one who I admired from a far thought so less of me. Your words sat with me for days. Penetrating my thoughts. Restructuring my style. Transforming my core. Your words had settled in. I began to own them as if they were my original thoughts. I slept with them. Woke up with them. But what's worse is i believed them. Until one day while walking, I walked past a mirror, and as I looked at the reflection I slowly stopped. Carefully examining the reflection that was before me, I began to weep. A low moan escaped my lips as my weeping turned into sobbing. It was in that moment I had realized what had happened. How could a strong willed, strong minded person allow anyone to influence how I see me? How did I become persuaded of someone else's theory of my life? My cries continued. I grieved for days, blaming myself. Fussing at my inner me. Disappointed with the betrayal. I hid, sunk into depression, then became what I told myself I'd never become... a victim.