Personal Pieces: Why I stopped caring what people think of me.

So, picture this… I’m 14… I’m a teenager who is scared of herself.

That is the truth. I was scared of myself. I guess I still am today, but I also guess I like myself more.

I guess I still am today, but I also guess I like myself more.

And it’s hard to be scared of something you like.

Don’t get me wrong, I care what people think about me.. but I don’t *care* what they think. And that probably makes far more sense to me than it does to you.

I have always cared what people think about me. I have this overwhelming fear that I’m a horrible person and I want to be a good person. I want to do so much for people and be this person who I’ll end my life actually liking.

So, maybe I’m on the right path, and I think that happened when I did stop *caring* what people think about me.

People are mean… they are. And I have, honestly, learned that the hard way.

Every year I think it will be different but every year there is new people who come and go.

I love the people who stick around and get on with me. Don’t get me wrong, I do know some absolutely awesome people and they know who they are.

Though, when I took the great leap to stick 2 fingers up at the negativity in the world, I felt this weight fall off my shoulders.

I really do believe that life is too short to care about what people think who try to bring you down. Of course, I dwell on whether people like me, whether I’m a good person and whether I present this person I want to be.

Though, I care what the people who mean something to me think about me.

And I think that’s okay.

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