Everytime someone raises their hand, I flinch. Instinctively preparing myself to be hit. I grew up in a household with a alcoholic father who would have nasty tempers, and a mother who was constantly in a abusive relationship. None of her boyfriends actually full-on hit me, but I’ve been dragged, yelled at, ripped off a couch and onto the floor by my feet, and all of this before I turned ten. I would remember the sound of my mom crying in her bedroom. My sister would ask me to tell her a story about her dad, but I can’t. Because I hated the bastard. And yeah, I know I’m always putting my hands in my pockets, but I like it. It lets me feel safe. Yes, I do wear makeup, thank you very much. Outside of school. Why? Well, why not? Who the fuck am I trying to impress at school? Pfft. I’m confident in how I look. I really don’t care. And you know what? IM FUCKING HAPPY. Happier than a lot of girls in my class. Just to not care for one day takes so much unneeded stress off your shoulders. I dare all of you to try it for one day. Just not care. See the difference it will make.
Posted on Thursday, 17 May 2012