I don’t think you’ll ever truly know me unless you are besties with me. There are certain things I am able to tell my bestie that I don’t even tell my parents, as close as I am to them. My bestie doesn’t judge me in the same way strangers and acquaintances do. And I wouldn’t say that my parents judge me. It’s more criticism on their part because they will always think I can do better, I shouldn’t make mistakes, I’m their only daughter, blah, blah, blah. I love that they care about me so much, as I know not everyone has the same kind of relationship with their parents, but it’s just not the same as being exactly who I am, flaws and insecurities and whatnot in front of my bestie. Being around her is like taking a day off from the constant need to improve myself.
A HUGE RELIEF.
I cannot emphasize that more. Do you know how happy I am when I get to be completely myself in front of someone? I’d probably marry my bestie except for the fact that mama don’t swing that way and she’s a straight shooter too (not that kind!). I have not used all caps in my writing since one of my creative writing professors told me that it’s only for younger audiences while critiquing my short story we were workshopping in class back when I was under his tutelage. I was a bit mortified back then, but I don’t care today because that’s just how much I like not worrying about being completely myself.
I’ve been labeled so many things in the past I’ve lost track, but two main ones were Nice Girl and Good Girl, as if there are only two adjectives to describe me and that’s all I can be. Dude, I have many facets thank you very much.
I am not a lesbian just because at the age of 14 I didn’t have a boyfriend. Psh, you too cool for school 14-year-old boys. I am not “the nicest girl you’ve ever met” either, boy who I gave you a sheet of notebook paper when everyone else wouldn’t. You have never felt my wrath when it finally is released after staying bottled up like a genie. I don’t “rock” because you saw me give a three-minute speech in Spanish like it’s my first language. You never saw my failing chemistry test grades.
But maybe there is a part of me that is still very much a Good Girl, despite my enriched college experience when I went a little wild. Everyone loves a good girl gone bad, right?
Whatever the case may be, don’t ever be afraid to pick your nose and scratch your balls.
Image credit: http://writing.upenn.edu/wh/highlights/students.php