Obviously, none of this went as planned.  The whole high school thing turned out sucking big time.  Sometimes, that makes me sad.  But mostly, it just makes me very very excited for everything that has yet to come.

I won’t ever understand why my friend group had to fall apart, or why I feel as though I absolutely can’t go to my prom.  Probably because everyone here is so unbearably judgmental.  They have made my flaws a subject of conversation, without making any effort to understand what I’m going through.  Some of these people whom, used to be my closest friends.

Maybe none of this would’ve happened if I’d have associated myself with people more like me; instead of those who are so involved with partying and sex.  My so-called “friends” make me feel misunderstood, like a nuisance and no fun.

I guess it’s too late for anything now.  All of these should’ve’s and would’ve’s, do me no good.  I hate this place with my entire being and can not wait to move onto something bigger, better and with people who share the same core values as I.

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I think about her often.  CS sits behind me in French class.

A brisk spring morning just last year, I remember a precious elderly lady coming to my family’s yard sale.  She began quite the chatter with my mother and when I came outside, she started talking to me as well.  The lady opened up to us about her granddaughter, who had lost her mother to disease and was taken away from her alcoholic father.  She told us how proud she was to have a daughter with such academic talent, yet worried whether she’d be able to financially support a post-secondary education.

Upon further discussion, it was established that the granddaughter and I went to the same school.  What’s more, we were in the same grade.  CS.  It is so odd to me that I went many years knowing this girl, without having a clue of her home life.  Makes you wonder how many other people you truly know nothing about.

Every day in French class, CS is happy and outgoing.  I tell few people this story because I wouldn’t ever want to embarrass her – especially since she doesn’t know I know.  My mother gave her grandmother the yard sale items for free.

Sometimes I think I am an awful person, because I find myself comforted by the struggles of others.  I wasn’t always this way, so maybe it’s just in light of recent events that this is happening.  I guess I feel that this world has done me quite wrong, so it helps to be reminded that maybe everyone feels this way.

At school, I see perfectly dressed girls with incredible grades, wonderful friends and loving boyfriends.  There is no place I feel more self conscious and anxious, than when I am there.  Often times I find myself unable to focus, and end up in the bathroom trying to calm myself down.

So please, forgive me.  Excuse the fact that I feel better knowing the girl he adores is seeking extra help in math.  Silly, I know.  Math isn’t much in the grand scheme of things, but I need my strengths to feel enforced – especially since some days I don’t think there’s a lot going for me.

Let’s also excuse the fact that I form such unchangeable disgusts in people who I believe to have downright fucked up.  I know mistakes are apart of human nature, and if the roles were flipped I’d obviously want a second chance.  But when simply hearing their name makes my blood boil, I just don’t think it’s in the books for me.

A friend once told me that I expect too much of people.  I assume everyone to be caring and considerate, which leaves me let down.  She suggested that I start bracing myself for people to suck, and be pleasantly surprised when they turn out to be decent.  If only I could switch my mind set that easily.  Then I wouldn’t be this sensitive and insecure little human, who gets WAY too butt hurt and heated over stuff that’s really quite irrelevant.

One of my favourite extracts from Khaled Hosseini’s novel,  The Kite Runner.


I wondered if that was how forgiveness budded, not with the fanfare of epiphany, but with pain gathering its things, packing up, and slipping away unannounced in the middle of the night.

Today is #BellLetsTalk day and so I sit here in Starbucks reading through my Twitter.  For the first time ever, I find myself actually able to relate to some of this years’ posts.  Consequently, I feel it is reasonable to take a moment and reflect on my growth as a person.

The last nine months of my life have sucked.  Although in the grand scheme of things, nine months isn’t a lot, it felt like an eternity for me.  Somehow, my feelings of self worth became associated with boys, and what degree of interest they showed in me.  Even at the time, I knew it was completely ridiculous, but it felt easier to blame my insecurities on others.   In me handling this, I did some pretty irrational things.  I felt misunderstood, judged, and gossiped about.  I’ve grown very anxious and dread getting out of bed some days because of it. Even as things are slowly getting better, my life still feels uneventful, and my presence seems unneeded.

I know deep down that I am defined by so much more than the size of my friend group, and whether I have a boyfriend or not.  I mean honestly, I have yet to even meet a boy who inspires me to be the best version of myself.  I deserve the absolute best; someone who isn’t afraid to dream, has ambition and shows me off.  I have so much love to give and stories to tell, and often feel like those aspects of my personality come across as “obsessive” or “annoying”.  The person meant for me wouldn’t ever feel that way.

I am going to change this world someday.  I feel as though I’ve been wronged by many people, and look forward to the moment I prove them wrong.  Ultimately, I wouldn’t change a thing about myself.   I think that I am kind, thoughtful and beautiful, and am sick of believing people when they suggest otherwise.