There’s so much I know how to do.
So much more than all of you.
The only thing I wish I knew,
Was how to make them see
The girl that I can be…
So this is going to be more of a blog than anything else. Sorry.
I am so sick of people calling me ‘the quiet one’. Yes, I am quiet. Yes, I swear. Shit. Fuck. Damn. Ass. Bitch.
It makes me so damn mad when people think that because I’m quiet and shit, I obviously don’t have opinions or thoughts. That I don’t matter. Because I pay attention in class, and I’m nerdy about things. Hell, the beginning of this post is from a song in a Harry Potter spoof musical. I’m nerdy. I don’t mind that fact.
But that does not mean I’m not worth something. I downright refuse to be walked on anymore.
Last year, I was new. I didn’t know anybody, and I didn’t get mad when people treated me like shit.
No, that’s a lie.
I got mad. Pissed.
There were a bunch of seniors, basically, that treated me like shit. They called me “sophomore whore” and a whole bunch of other names. And I’m not complaining about them. Really. It was all in good fun, I knew that, and if I minded, well, I should have stood up for myself, put my foot down.
But I wanted so badly to be accepted, that I didn’t. I let the anger stew inside of me until I would blow up at anyone and everyone.
I hate that. I don’t want to be like that.
So this year, I’m taking a stand. I’m Jasmine Mary, god damn it (substitute Mary for a last name that I’m not revealing ;P). I’m smart and I can sing and I’m at least somewhat funny. I refuse to be desperate for friends. If I have to eat alone, so be it. I’ll be in the middle of the courtyard, reading my book and not caring. Because it’s bull, thinking of yourself as less than anyone, taking a bunch of crap from people just because they’re hanging out with you.
Last year, there was a boy that asked me out. I wanted to say yes, so badly, but there was a good chance I’d be made fun of if I did. He wrote me the sweetest poem I have ever recieved. It made me cry to read it. And I convinced myself that I didn’t want him, because I was so damn worried about what they’d think. I was deluded into thinking I liked another boy, one who didn’t have the balls to ask me out directly, instead skirting around the subject. “Call me and we can… hang out.” “Want to go to a movie? Just us?” That kind of relationship is for some people. Not for me. No way.
I’m not going to compromise my morals. I’m not going to be a wallflower. I will not be known as the quiet kid.
This summer has changed me, and all for the better. I am confident (sort of). When I don’t feel like it, I’ll fake it. I don’t need a guy. If I find one, I’m going to make sure he’s worthy, that he’s romantic and sweet and right for me.
I don’t know why I’m telling you all this. Most of you will never read this, and there aren’t that many to begin with. But it feels good, to get it out. I might keep a copy of something similar in my purse, so it’s always there, so I remember this promise I’m making myself.
I, Jasmine Mary, am going to be more confident. I will not stand to be talked down to, and I will be outgoing. My opinions will be, if not heard, at least voiced, and I’m going to make damn well sure I have an enjoyable junior year.
I’m turning over a new leaf. I quit dance. It’s time to shake off the things I don’t like about myself, that I’ve been wanting to change for goodness knows how long.