There’s always been
that girl. It’s the girl who looks effortlessly fantastic every single day. It could be torrential down pouring outside and her hair would somehow not be frizzy. It’s the girl who says exactly what’s on her mind and seemingly never thinks twice about it. It’s the girl who doesn’t have an awkward bone in her body and can hold a successful conversation with anyone, no matter how damn attractive they are. And it’s the girl who doesn’t possess insecurities because she knows how damn cool she is — which, of course, only makes her that much cooler.
I’ve strived to be
that girl for as long as I can remember.
In middle school when people made fun of the size of my lips I wanted to be able to say I didn’t care and it didn’t phase me — and actually mean it. But I didn’t.
In high school when my boyfriend dumped me over text after cheating on me, I wanted to be able to laugh about it, move on quickly, and get over it easily because I knew I deserved better and was a catch. But I couldn’t.
In college when I was trying to figure out what the hell I wanted to do with my life, I wanted to have the confidence to know that I would be fine whatever I chose to do. But I didn’t know.
After college, I wanted to be the suave, successful business lady who never messed anything up and found success at every turn. But I wasn’t.
And in every day life, I have always wanted to be the girl who doesn’t give a shit about much because it seemed easier. I never got my wish.
I’m 24 now, and I can confidently say that I am still not this girl. And for the record, I’m pretty sure I never will be.
Instead, I’m the girl whose feelings get legitimately hurt if someone ignores my texts.
I’m the girl that will upload an Instagram selfie and then delete it 10 seconds later because I feel so dumb.
I’m the girl who discounts my own feeling sometimes because they aren’t considered “cool.”
I’m the girl who says what’s on my mind and then immediately regrets the day I was born immediately afterward.
I’m the girl who still openly struggles with insecurities, regardless of how many times I’ve written about it, or how much I tell others to be confident.
And I’m the girl who gives a shit. I give a lot of shits.
As much as I sometimes wish I wasn’t the way that I am, I’m still this way.
No matter how many times I have tried to tell myself to relax, tried to tell myself that I shouldn’t care, or tried to tell myself to be more chill, I still cannot seem to transform into
The older I get, the more people I meet, and the more life experiences I get under my belt, the more I’m starting to realize that I’m not even sure
that girl exists. That girl is a figment of our imagination. She is someone that society has told us we should aim to be, but she is someone that we will never realistically reach.
I will never be
that girl. Maybe none of us will.
But it’s not about who we’re not — it’s about who we are.
And who we already are is damn good enough.