i am me.
Have you ever had one of those moments where you look at someone and think, “I wish I could be more like you?” You don’t necessarily want to look like him or dress like her but something about the way those random people go about their lives seems appealing to you? They do something differently than the way you do that same thing. Where you fail to be stoic, they never shed a tear. Where you are sometimes too accommodating, they are firm and demanding. Or maybe it really could be that you want to look like her or dress like her or have attention tossed your way so often that you “don’t know what to do about all these guys.” After all, isn’t having choices and variety in life incredibly rough? When you call yourself fat, I think to myself, “I am heavier than you, so what does that make me?” So sometimes, you think, I wish I could be a little more like you and maybe then things, even good things, would be better.
And then one day, you just want a moment of silence. The arguing needs to cease. The harsh tones, darkening the words that come from their mouths, need to be brightened. You feel overwhelmed by everything that is going on. And on that day, one little thing sets you off. You aren’t angry, by any means. Instead, sadness takes over your entire body. And you can’t tell if it’s a result of having so many emotions rushing through you in one day because of other events, or if the negativity has finally broken your spirit. You wonder if something is wrong with you. You wonder if you have to be like them to feel accepted.
I am not the most confident person. I have a love/hate relationship with myself. On some days, I think I am amazing and that the world should feel lucky to have me grace its presence. On other days, I feel uncomfortable simply looking at myself in the mirror, and thus avoid doing so at all times. Sometimes, I feel like people think I am a joke. As though because I laugh a lot, there must be something wrong with me. Because my emotions are felt with more conviction that those of other people, that I am crazy. Because I am not mean to people who have treated me badly or have broken my spirit. Because I don’t yell at him or her or them. Or because even when I am being spit on, kicked and dragged through mud, my teeth still shine just as brightly when I smile.
What’s funny is that I have never considered myself to be a very positive person. That is not to say that I ever thought I was a negative person; but, I suppose I surround myself with positive people so I don’t notice how positive I am until in the presence of people who are not that way. Today, I had a realization. I never, in a million years, want to be anything you are. You might be considered incredibly beautiful and fun and desirable to all. But I will never want to be you. You are cruel and stubborn. You are rude and selfish. You do not strive to be better than what you are, because you already believe that you have reached the level of perfection. Somehow you claim to lack confidence, but we all know you are just looking for compliments. No, you’re not fat and when you call yourself fat, I won’t even argue. I will remain silent. When you complain about how fucking stupid this is, or how fucking stupid that is, I will walk away from.
I am positive that I may not be perfect, but I would rather be sad, happy, loud, fat, ugly, beautiful, thin, average, inexperienced, kind, intelligent, goofy, driven, lazy, emotional, loving, passionate, accepting, absolutely amazing in my own eyes, everysinglethingthatmakesmeunique…than be anything else. Don’t drag me down. You’re drowning in the deep with straightened hair, fresh make up, a scowl, and hatred in your body. But I’m swimming towards the sun with love in my heart and tears in my eyes and nappy hair and a smile upon face.
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