Last night, I was out (yes, I go out often).
On said-outing, I ended up making out with two different people, neither of which I had any interest in dating, one of whom was a complete and total piece of shit asshole. There came a moment in my life when I thought back to the coveted story of my disastrous, depression-rendering first kiss that many people who know me are aware of, and I thought, “how did I get here, and who the fuck am I anyways?” I thought of myself last night – as a skank, as a public makeout, as a girl that guys see and think, “I am going home with that girl” (PS: you’re not going anywhere with me, FYI). I asked myself repeatedly, who have I become?
When I was in high school, I was absolutely pathetic. I was a very small sliver of a very small person, and I was completely insignificant and ugly and fat and homely and I could barely even mustre up the courage to talk to people. I spent much of my sixteen-year old life either at home watching reality shows with my mom and eating A & W, or at school drawing pictures in my binder and listening to my mom’s music on burnt CDs. At the time, I was okay with being alone and pathetic. It was all I knew, and when being alone is all you know, you don’t mind it so much anyways.
I think sometimes – if the person I am now – who made it successfully through depressive bouts of heartbreak and unemployment, almost simultaneously and managed to come out of both as someone who a) disregards now, relationships, false hope, and waiting around for someone who won’t ever call or give you what you want and b) someone with a fulfilling entry-level position that pays her enough to go on a paid vacation to Hawaii – went back in time and approached the person I was and told her this, what would she think? Would she be proud or ashamed?
I’ve always held myself to certain principles and walked around telling people about them; I don’t do this, I don’t do that, this is never something I would do. I held myself to these things for so long, they became a part of who I am; but they never really were. They were always sour grapes statements, spoken by the person I was. Because the person I was couldn’t be who I am now; she didn’t have that option. She was homely and hardly looked at herself as human let alone feminine even. She tried – she put effort into her clothes and appearance, she only spoke when spoken to, she got good grades and dabbled in acting, regardless of how stupid she felt as a romantic lead in A Midsummer Night’s Dream. But.. she wasn’t outgoing enough or confident enough to make brave decisions on the fly, and she wasn’t pretty enough to be that girl on the dance floor, tongue on tongue with some random stranger. A random stranger never would have selected her. She experienced that several times in her younger days and it hurt her a lot as she wondered, “why me? Why am I this way?” even though she knew exactly why.
Younger versions of me would hear of my weekend adventures and be stoked about it. This is what I’ve decided. I have to remember that in order to fully live my life as the person I am now. It is something that can really be said about me- her I am, someone that I always wanted to be, and I shouldn’t be ashamed of that.