The girl who was different from us

She ran across the field towards the old car wreck that had become her place of solace, where she cried, ate, slept, dreamed, fantasized.
She was from a home where her dad was a womanizer, abandons his responsibilities, blames it on her mother and kids and he is damn scary.
Her mom was abusive and was not close with her, she was a good mom but there were still the unspoken lines and distance. She had no freedom of speech or choice.
Her siblings were just her siblings, annoying at times, sweet at times.
A lot of things made her different, she wasn’t just a girl who dreamed about making it big, she was pretty and loved to go all natural, great at feeling insecure, she wasn’t consistent neither was she confident. Past mistakes haunted her, she lacked focus and encouragement from anyone. She hated herself and felt little sense of diginity, cancelled plans were made one after the other .
Why?
She lacked the willpower to persist .
Despite all this,
She was always smiling .
Flattery gave her no joy.
Laughter of kids, smile of the elders and joy of her peers filled her with sense of fulfilment.
She was accommodating, kind, brainy and had a way with words, she wasn’t shy, quiet and didn’t have everything she wanted. Yet a lot of girls were intimidated by her aura.
She neither allowed dating life to be a hindrance to her relationships.
She had more male friends than female friends. She hardly judged and when she did she did laugh and wave it away.
She found peace in nature and solitude, she found consolation in food. And she was a critical overthinker who will talk to trees, walls, animals, blocks, space.
Her name is Lucy.