It’s kind of sad when someone judges you for your past.
When they look at your arms and see scars that you yourself single handedly put there,
And they immediately think “oh she’s not a good person to hang out with”.

Or when you finally trust someone enough to tell them a little bit of the crap you’ve been through and they walk out the door without saying a word,

Only to send you a text a few minutes later saying they were sorry but couldn’t handle someone that messed up.

You see, I’ve had both those things happen to me on a daily basis.
I’m not afraid to admit my past.
I’m not afraid to tell people that I was suicidal through the majority of my young teenage years, but I never had the guts to finish the job.

I’m not afraid to show the pictures of the years that I was gothic and had a generally dark outlook on life and everything living this life.

I am not afraid for people to know who I am.
But it’s when people start to judge me that I get a little mad.
When they do see the scars and they give me that look of “what was so horrible about your life?”
Or when they see who I used to be and get obsessed with that to the point where they forget to notice who I am now.
That gets to me a little bit.

So here’s the message I’m broadcasting now;

Love me or hate me, I’m still going to shine!