And here was the bitter paradox of adolescense: alone, I was most myself, most true. But the self that really mattered was the self that was visible, the self that could be shown to other people.

I wasn't afraid of being alone, but I was afraid of what people would think about my solitary state. People, even well-intentioned people, were always trying to take away our quiet little successes and joys and replace them with big, overarching fears. At this school, the worst thing was trying to rise above the limits set for you by the minds of others. Each girl was an island of her own dreams and insecurities, thoughts that made us different in a deeper way than the differences of musical taste, clothes or even culture. Thoughts about the best way to be stoic, how to live with very little control in life, how to make the most of a miserable time doing something that you were supposed to love. And if people thought that fifteen-year-old girls never thought about these sorts of things, it was only because we didn't have the words to express them.
We talked all the time, but we hadn't yet learned the words to link thoughts and ideas with any depth of feeling, because we didn't really talk to adults. We talked only to each other. And within this little world, we imprisoned one another. You could be anyone you wanted, Linh– until you were judged and held captive by everyone else's thoughts. Nothing has a stronger hold over a girl than the fear of the thoughts of her peers– thoughts that change five times in a day. No wonder things are so complicated with teenagers.

To be part of the Cabinet, I'd had to keep my true self apart. and there's only so much of yourself you can hide, Linh, before you start to fall apart.

Peer pressure is just that: pressure.

Fitting in" is one of those horrible diseases that turn reasonable minds into sheep-gelatin hive minds.

Basketball Rule #5
When
you stop
playing
your game
you've already
lost.