Gemotions

He paced the length of his cramped apartment, each stride a tightly controlled explosion of frustration. The article headline mocked him from his open laptop: *From Awkward Teen to Accomplished Adult? You Decide!*. Accomplished? Hardly. He felt the familiar weight of self-doubt and inadequacy settle upon him.

He’d spent years carefully crafting a persona, a professional image. Now, some internet lurker had unearthed his adolescent drivel, complete with embarrassing poetry and over-dramatic pronouncements. His stomach churned. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands, the action fueled by the sudden, burning need to dismantle the computer and throw it from the window.

He saw the picture they’d used: a picture of him, awkward and gangly with braces and an ill-fitting haircut. He pressed his fingers against the screen, as if to physically obliterate the image. The nerve of it all.