Megan had always felt out of place. Growing up in a small town where everyone seemed to fit into neat little boxes, she felt like an outsider. Her interests were different, her style was different, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to blend in.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In high school, Megan was the girl who sat alone at lunch, reading fantasy novels and sketching in her notebook. Her classmates didn’t bully her outright, but she could feel their judgmental glances and hear their whispers. It was a lonely existence, but she held onto the hope that college would be different.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When Megan got accepted into a university in the city, she saw it as her chance to start over. She packed her bags, said goodbye to her parents, and left her small town behind. The bustling city and diverse campus were a world away from what she had known, and it was both exciting and terrifying.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
During the first few weeks of college, Megan kept to herself, just as she had in high school. She attended classes, ate meals alone, and spent her evenings in her dorm room, drawing and reading. She wanted to make friends, but she didn’t know how to take the first step.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
One day, as she was sitting in the campus caf\u00e9, a girl with bright blue hair and a friendly smile sat down across from her. “Hi, I’m Sam. I noticed you’re always here alone. Mind if I join you?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Megan was taken aback but managed a shy smile. “Sure, I’m Megan.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Sam chatted easily, asking Megan about her classes, her interests, and her hometown. Megan felt herself relaxing, surprised at how easy it was to talk to Sam. They bonded over their love for art and shared a few laughs about their awkward high school experiences.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Over the next few weeks, Sam introduced Megan to her friends, a group of quirky and creative individuals who embraced Megan without hesitation. For the first time, Megan felt like she belonged. They spent their evenings painting murals, exploring the city, and having deep conversations about life.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
One evening, as they sat around a bonfire in the campus quad, Megan looked around at her new friends and felt a warmth she had never experienced before. She realized she had found a place where she was accepted for who she was, quirks and all.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But the real test came during a group project in her psychology class. Megan was paired with a few classmates who were more outgoing and confident. She was nervous, afraid they would judge her or dismiss her ideas. To her surprise, they listened to her, valued her input, and encouraged her to take the lead on the project.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When they presented their project to the class, Megan felt a surge of pride. Her classmates praised her for her creativity and insights. It was a small victory, but it meant the world to her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Later that day, Megan met up with Sam and their friends. She shared her experience, and they celebrated her success with cheers and high-fives. Megan realized that acceptance wasn’t just about finding the right people; it was also about learning to accept herself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Megan’s journey wasn’t easy, but she had found a place where she was valued and appreciated. She learned that true acceptance comes from within and that when you find the courage to be yourself, the right people will come into your life.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As she looked around at her friends, Megan knew she had finally found her place in the world. It was a place where she was accepted, not just by others, but by herself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
by walking shadow poetry Kenya.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Megan had always felt out of place. Growing up in a small town where everyone seemed to fit into neat little boxes, she felt like an outsider. Her interests were different, her style was different, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to blend in. In high school, Megan was the girl […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":2358,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[98],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2357","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-storytime"],"aioseo_notices":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/pexels-photo-5965896.jpeg?fit=867%2C1300&ssl=1","jetpack-related-posts":[{"id":2391,"url":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/title-the-shadow-of-narcissism\/","url_meta":{"origin":2357,"position":0},"title":"Title: The Shadow of Narcissism.","author":"walking shadow poetry kenya","date":"June 23, 2024","format":false,"excerpt":"Chapter 1: A Fresh Start Moving to the city was a new beginning for Amina. After a series of bad jobs in her small town, she was ready for the excitement and opportunities that came with city life. She found a small apartment, got a decent job at a marketing\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "storytime"","block_context":{"text":"storytime","link":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/SPOKENWORDSandMODERNDAYPOETRY\/storytime\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"woman in blue white and red plaid shirt and black pants sitting on gray couch","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/pexels-photo-6003534.jpeg?fit=800%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/pexels-photo-6003534.jpeg?fit=800%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/pexels-photo-6003534.jpeg?fit=800%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/pexels-photo-6003534.jpeg?fit=800%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=700%2C400 2x"},"classes":[]},{"id":3387,"url":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/faith-that-fought-back-ruths-rise-in-unbroken\/","url_meta":{"origin":2357,"position":1},"title":"Faith That Fought Back: Ruth\u2019s Rise in Unbroken.","author":"walking shadow poetry kenya","date":"August 3, 2025","format":false,"excerpt":"About: \"Ruth's Journey from Turmoil to Triumph\" Preface. My name is Ruth, and my life has been a journey through storms and deserts, with moments of brief respite under clear skies. As the firstborn in a family of seven, I bore the weight of responsibilities far beyond my years. Each\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "poem"","block_context":{"text":"poem","link":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/SPOKENWORDSandMODERNDAYPOETRY\/poem\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/08\/ruth-cover-page.png?fit=800%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/08\/ruth-cover-page.png?fit=800%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/08\/ruth-cover-page.png?fit=800%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/08\/ruth-cover-page.png?fit=800%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=700%2C400 2x"},"classes":[]},{"id":2399,"url":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/redefining-her-power\/","url_meta":{"origin":2357,"position":2},"title":"Redefining Her Power.","author":"walking shadow poetry kenya","date":"August 1, 2024","format":false,"excerpt":"Lydia stood in front of the mirror, her eyes tracing the faint lines of worry that had formed over the years. She had been through a lot\u2014failed relationships, career setbacks, and moments of doubt that threatened to overwhelm her. But today was different. Today, she was determined to reclaim her\u2026","rel":"","context":"Similar post","block_context":{"text":"Similar post","link":""},"img":{"alt_text":"fashion photography of woman hands on chin with glitter makeup","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/08\/pexels-photo-1081685.jpeg?fit=1092%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/08\/pexels-photo-1081685.jpeg?fit=1092%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/08\/pexels-photo-1081685.jpeg?fit=1092%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/08\/pexels-photo-1081685.jpeg?fit=1092%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=700%2C400 2x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/08\/pexels-photo-1081685.jpeg?fit=1092%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=1050%2C600 3x"},"classes":[]},{"id":2364,"url":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/the-healing-journey-of-sarah\/","url_meta":{"origin":2357,"position":3},"title":"The Healing Journey of Sarah.","author":"walking shadow poetry kenya","date":"June 21, 2024","format":false,"excerpt":"Sarah had always believed in love. She dreamed of a fairytale romance where she would find her prince charming, and they would live happily ever after. But life had a different plan for her. She found herself stuck in a cycle of consistent heartbreak. Her first serious relationship was with\u2026","rel":"","context":"In \"poetess\"","block_context":{"text":"poetess","link":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/WalkingShadowPoetryKenya\/poetess\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"man in blue kissing woman on forehead","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/pexels-photo-3724031.jpeg?fit=800%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/pexels-photo-3724031.jpeg?fit=800%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/pexels-photo-3724031.jpeg?fit=800%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/pexels-photo-3724031.jpeg?fit=800%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=700%2C400 2x"},"classes":[]},{"id":2249,"url":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/story-time\/","url_meta":{"origin":2357,"position":4},"title":"STORY TIME.","author":"walking shadow poetry kenya","date":"June 5, 2024","format":false,"excerpt":"Once upon a time, in a small village nestled between rolling hills, there lived a cheerful young girl named Maya. Maya loved exploring the world around her and had a heart full of kindness. She enjoyed spending time with her friends, sharing laughter and creating beautiful memories. One day, Maya's\u2026","rel":"","context":"In \"poems\"","block_context":{"text":"poems","link":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/WalkingShadowPoetryKenya\/poems\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"blue and red galaxy artwork","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/pexels-photo-1629236.jpeg?fit=1200%2C675&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/pexels-photo-1629236.jpeg?fit=1200%2C675&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/pexels-photo-1629236.jpeg?fit=1200%2C675&ssl=1&resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/pexels-photo-1629236.jpeg?fit=1200%2C675&ssl=1&resize=700%2C400 2x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/pexels-photo-1629236.jpeg?fit=1200%2C675&ssl=1&resize=1050%2C600 3x"},"classes":[]},{"id":2340,"url":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/pain-in-denial\/","url_meta":{"origin":2357,"position":5},"title":"Pain in Denial.","author":"walking shadow poetry kenya","date":"June 18, 2024","format":false,"excerpt":"Ella sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the empty wall. Her phone buzzed with messages from friends, concerned and offering support, but she ignored them. She wasn't ready to face the truth. It had been three months since her father passed away. Everyone kept telling her it\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "death"","block_context":{"text":"death","link":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/SPOKENWORDSandMODERNDAYPOETRY\/death\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"upset woman listening to therapist","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/pexels-photo-3958421.jpeg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/pexels-photo-3958421.jpeg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/pexels-photo-3958421.jpeg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/pexels-photo-3958421.jpeg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=700%2C400 2x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/pexels-photo-3958421.jpeg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=1050%2C600 3x"},"classes":[]}],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2357","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2357"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2357\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2359,"href":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2357\/revisions\/2359"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/2358"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2357"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2357"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2357"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}