Dedicated to Leia, since she didn’t believe me when I said I’ll dedicate it to her. 🙂
Today I felt pretty confident. Okay, maybe more than “pretty”. That’s because I took some more of my time to make myself look somehow more presentable. I had my highlighter on point, brighter than ever, glitter in my brows, like I almost always do since it makes me feel more like an unicorn, and silver pants. Yep, that’s right. Silver. They’re in the thumbnail, but I’ll insert the picture again, for the sake of it.
Excuse the amazing outfit, but this is not a fashion blog. It’s college. It’s also winter.
Anyway, I had all those things on me and, for some reason, I felt amazing. I don’t usually like staring, or any sort of attention that doesn’t revolve around people noticing my blog (thank you, Maria, for your compliment today!! It sincerely made my day) or simply school-related stuff, since it’s pretty irrelevant having almost-strangers talking to me about personal stuff. Is it just me? As I was saying, I felt as if I was literally radiating confidence. I probably wasn’t, but hey, at least I thought I was.
What really bothered me – but faded away pretty quickly, as it usually attacks me for days – was that, although I looked like a street light and it was impossible not to see me at least passing by, who mattered to me still didn’t. And let’s say it’s not how ignored I got that upset me, but how I couldn’t understand why and how it was possible. Okay, maybe not the last part. I admit it’s pretty easy to just stay silent and avoid someone you don’t want to talk to. At least, give them the reason you’re doing it, God, and you might not even have to do it afterwards. It’s less stressful, anyway.
That kind of went off-track.
As I was doing my daily street light student duties, casually, very lowkey, trying to get noticed and failing, it started getting to me even more. Was I doing something wrong? Was I being too obvious? No, since I was barely doing anything (hoping for miracles counts, right?). Then what was so wrong about me that I couldn’t get it right? Unfortunately, asking myself such a thing became routine. I tried answering, at least for today. I was happy, I really liked the way I looked, I got some good grades, too. It was a pretty eventful day, in a positive manner. Where did it go wrong and how?
Later on, I was texting Leia who highly – although I think, jokingly – suggested I write about today. I accepted and reviewed what I had to do and was disappointed to find that it would’ve turned into a 637-word rant about how my crush doesn’t want to talk to me. That would’ve been boring, plain and whinny. Or, at least, repetitive, since I kept writing about that. However, there I was, trying to do a worksheet and failing due to the lack of concentration and to the fact that I kept thinking tomorrow is also a day, and evaluating the possibilities of turning this into a more captivating entry. Yes, I really wanted to write this. Thus, I rewinded today.
And it hit me.
The question wasn’t “Where did it go wrong and how?“, but “Why do I think it went wrong in any way?“. Let’s face it: nothing I mentioned had happened is bad or upsetting. Why did I have to pretend it had to be? So what if maybe no one cared about how I looked today? I was killing it – ok, maybe, but you get my point. And the “mess” I went through this morning to achieve this? I never said it was for him. Actually, if you read the first parts again, you can deduce I’d planned on doing it for myself in the first place, anyway. So exactly, where, in this entire entry, which contains both how I view those now and how I saw them back then, does it say that anything I had done was meant to impress him?
Sure, if I – I don’t know – baked him 3000 cookies and left them anonymously somewhere for him to easily get them and he didn’t at least get close to them, I would’ve had all the reasons to be angry. I obviously worked and put effort into something for him which didn’t work. But now? I didn’t.
So why bother be bothered? As I’m writing this, I realise that I feel a lot more accomplished knowing that the positive vibes I had today were because of me, fully intentional and directed to myself, in order to make my life better. Not someone else’s.
And it was a good day.
All in all, I suggest we do more for ourselves, for the sake of spoiling our souls. And if we do, not to pretend it was for someone else. It doesn’t lower your dignity at all. Why would it? Stay true to yourself. Sure, maybe you’ll have some luck and attract those people you want, or get that job you dream of, or whatever. Although, I don’t think it will happen unless you’re sincere to yourself about it.