She was accused of fakery. Of not showing her true self… “Be yourself!” they’d insist, “Be authentic, for crying out loud!” She knew she was changing the shade of her very being, depending on who got to peek at a part of her soul…
“What are you afraid of, why try to please everyone?”
When they got her doubting, wondering about who she really was, the core of her existence, her true identity, the same image always came to her mind.
“Camouflage doesn’t make the chameleon unreal… It makes it survive!” She whispered, to herself.