Importantly Me

I saw their snickers and their pointing. I heard their laughs and their banters. I saw and heard everything they could think of to break me down and make me cry.

At least that would have worked five years ago when I had actually cared about what people said or thought about me. Now you’re probably thinking I'm in high school, right? Wrong! I'm in my sophomore year of attending California State University.

And how I got through the last years of high school and the starting years of University is from something my mom used to say before her death. She said that if I believed in how I saw myself, then that would be more important than how others saw me.

Since then, no matter how I dressed--a blue shirt with a black leather jacket on top, Goth pants, and some blue converse all-stars--what color my hair was--dyed blue with a black undertone--who my friends are--even if it is only five, they are the greatest friends a girl could have ever asked for--or what I drive around campus. I didn't, and will continue not to, care about what thought or even say about.

Because if I believe in myself, then there is no way on heaven, earth, or even hell people could bring me down and make me crack.

Because...
I was bought up to believe that how I saw myself was more important than how others saw me.