The Art Of Letting Go

I started high school as the girl who cared about what boys thought. What I wore, how I looked. I wore makeup for them, straightened my curls out for them, wore two bras for them. I was a girl who would do anything for a cute boy to like her back. I was a slave to their opinions. I was young and all I wanted was to be loved.

I am now eighteen. Eighteen years of being someone I wasn’t took a toll on me. It took me eighteen years to realize that I was beautiful. I finally saw that I don’t need other people to make me happy. I don’t need a boy to like me to feel good about myself. Being forced to be in a class with the boy who broke my heart and made me sad for three years has helped. I found that with each passing day I stopped dressing for him. What I wear and how I look is now all for me.

His name was James and I was madly in love with him. But that was three years ago. I will be forever grateful that he never liked me back. Because if it wasn't for him I wouldn't be me. I wouldn't be the girl to just cut her hair cause she felt like it that day. I wouldn't be the girl who laughs at everything. I wouldn't be the girl to buy red lipstick and wear it. All the qualities that I have now are because I finally learned to let go. Let go of the me who was scared, sad and broken. I learned you don't need another person to put you back together. I just needed me.

The irony of it all is when I did cut my hair he told me he liked it and I didn't even care.