I've been waiting for my senior year of high school for a long time. I can remember just dying to be a senior in high school ever since the eighth grade. I saw myself stunningly beautiful with thick, long hair. I saw myself with the most envious wardrobe in school and a shoe collection that would make Paris Hilton jealous. I saw myself with a cute boy who would take me out of dates, walk me to my class, and make me laugh... he would make me happy. I saw myself with straight A's and being that one student who gets all of the awards at the end of the school year making all the other kids jealous. Most of all, I saw myself being happy, finally happy with who I'd become.
I can say with an honest heart that most of the things I wished for four years ago haven't in fact come true. I was a big dreamer and even more than a dreamer I wanted to be that underdog that proved everyone wrong. Revenge was something I craved like no other. Revenge on all of those people who had called me fat and ugly and four eyes. Revenge on all of the boys who had never liked me because I wasn't popular or pretty. Revenge on the mean girls who tore me down and ripped me apart. Revenge on the popular girls who I was always envious of. I wanted to make them the ones envious of me instead.
For most of high school I went about with this mindset. This twisted mindset of proving myself to everyone. Maybe it wasn't even proving myself to other people, but trying to prove something to...myself. My freshman year was spent all year trying to make the senior girls notice me, and make my fellow classmates take note of me. Take note that I was going to be someone to watch out for. My sophomore year was more about proving that I was different, that I wasn't like anybody else and no body could take that away no matter how hard they tried. My junior year was about defining myself as an upper class man and someone for the younger girls to look up to. It was also about solidly compacting who I had become and accepting it, learning to love myself one day at a time.
And soon it will be my senior year. I always imagined myself walking into school for my last first day of high school looking flawless. My hair would be perfectly straight and shiny. My shoes would be at least five inches high and would make that wonderful clicking noise when I walked down the hallway. My outfit would be the most enviable and talked about thing that day at school. When people would see me in the halls, they would stop and stare. And I would walk the hallways with a handsome boy who would kiss my goodbye as he dropped me off at my class.
Tonight I was trying to put together an outfit for the first day of school and suddenly I was brought back to all of these thoughts, feelings, and hopes that I had the past few years and I was ashamed. I was ashamed that I could have ever thought like that and been so vain to have wanted so much and prove everyone wrong. I look at that Lauren as another person and I can't quite figure her out. Instead of being who she wanted to be, she wanted to make herself into someone she thought everyone else would love. It makes me so sad.
Right now I'm wearing a grey lace dress with scalloped edges. My shoes are thrifted and t-strap wedges. For jewellery I'm wearing clip on earrings, a gold cameo necklace, and the silver heart bracelet I never take off. My makeup is smudged, my nail polish is chipped off, and my hair is greasy and in a messy bun. But when I looked in my mirror tonight, instead of seeing that senior girl I always wanted to see, always wanted to be... I saw something better. I saw...me. I saw the girl I always was destined to be in my heart. She's not the most pretty or popular or fashionable, but she's unique and herself. She's awkward and silly at times, and angsty and sensitive at other times. Her hair is never shiny and always a mess, her stomach is a soft roll, and yes she has plenty of pimples, too. But you know what? I'm excited to see this girl for the first day of her senior year. I know she's going to do great things. ❤
With much love, Lauren.