Dear Stereotypes,
There are a lot of things I am mad at in the world: mosquitos, gnats, ants, and relatively any insect, to name a few. Yet, I think I am mad at you the most. It has taken me a lot of time to notice you. You crawl around without a sound and hover by my ear without being invited. You inspect me with pinpoint eyes without my consent, until ultimately, you come into my sightline, just barely. You grapple with the air, trying to torment me as I flick you and swat you away. You are always there, but I never seem to notice you until you personally affect me. Maybe you are the worst insect of all.
You are the mosquito that silently flits into my personal bubble and lands undetected on my arm, ready to do your quiet damage. You steal from me and you steal from others. It is what you were meant to do. You float on the air and breed by water, inhabiting all aspects of my life. You will always be there, but until you bite me, I never notice. Then, I scratch at the sore you left and itch all day long, distracting me from class and from family. Now, all I can do is notice where you have been and what you have left behind. I am left with your damage.
You are the gnat that incessantly buzzes in my ear, begging me to listen without saying any words. My ears prickle with the recognition of you, challenging me to tell everyone about you. You come back when I fan you away, though I can barely see you. It is almost as if you simply want the attention, so you eventually move on to your next victim to torment. You pass between my family and friends, buzzing your way through, impacting us all and bothering some more than others. You pick and choose, and you linger.
You are the ant that climbs onto my foot and pinches my big toe, making my skin seize and burn. When I notice you, it is too late. My toe swells, and I am left to suffer from your sting. Then, I notice that you have travelled over to my friend, bringing along your colony, trailing your way across her foot and preparing your attack. You double forces and send her entire foot swelling. I am left to wonder: why her? Why not me? Am I glad you spared me? Is she rightfully upset that her pain is worse than the harm you caused me?
You have always been here, you are still here, and you always will be. Creeping, buzzing, stinging. Selective in your pursuit. You are the worst insect of all.
With sorrow,
Hope Mitchell