Self Conscious? (86/90)

(FYI, we didn't pay the internet bill so we have no internet at home anymore so I went to the MT cup to do write some responses for my Social Media class before getting to work on the blog. I ended up getting kicked out of the MT cup because they had to close. Unfortunately, I did not have time to post the blog before getting kicked out and I didn't want to go to the library so late at night. Hence, I was unable to post yesterday.)



Have you ever looked in the mirror and said "Who the heck is that?" I know it's kind of weird to think that when you look at yourself in the mirror almost everyday, but when I saw myself up close today, the only thing I could think of was how much older I looked than what I had originally thought. I almost seemed like a total stranger. Have I really been alive for 20 years already?

Seeing all of that complexity in my skin and the fact that my eyes were almost bloodshot from staring at my laptop for almost 10 hours made me realize that Hey, I'm not a little kid anymore. To be honest, I've never really thought of myself as being an adult. When the word adult comes to mind, I tend to associate it with being old and conforming to traditional views (loss of radical ideals) and corruption of the human body (alcohol, promiscuity, and drugs) and the loss of satisfaction of youthful experiences and the fact that my body will soon become less flexible. And the backaches, can't forget about that.

As I look back at all of those silly pictures of me from when I was younger, I start to realize that I have always been self conscious on how I looked. When I was in first grade, I remember plucking hairs out of my eyebrows because I thought they were too thick. Or the many times during middle school and high school where I was almost late to catch the bus because I would spend too much time in the bathroom trying to style my hair. Even now, I'm really picky on what clothes I wear because of the design, logos, and how the clothes fit on me. Whenever someone gives me clothes or shoes for my birthday, I tend to reject them because I'm so picky when it comes to clothing. (It's not that I don't like clothes, mommy, it's just that I don't like your taste :P)

And you know what's so funny about me being self conscious? I tend to not care what other people think about me. If other's think it's fine and I don't, then it's not fine. If other's think it's not fine and I think it is, it's fine to me. Fuck all ya haters!