In the latest years of my life I have been engulfed by a whirlwind of confusion, as you would expect from a teenager, but I feel that my confusion is much different than most my age. I’m not quite sure what makes me feel different, but I somehow feel separated from the rest. I’ve always felt like the black sheep (not referencing the fact that I’m a mixed kid in a white world), but that I’ve always stepped to the beat of my own drum. I’m not one hundred percent confident if it’s because I’m the only child of my mother or I’m just on the odd side. I’ve always been comfortable with speaking what’s on my mind, but it’s not a trait from either of my parents. I remember being in kindergarten when we had to write short stories and I wrote about being in love with one of the boys in my class, and being able to share it without a second thought. When I read it, I didn’t understand why everyone laughed or why the the kid was extremely embarrassed. I still don’t understand why people laughed at me, not because I still have a crush on him, but because everyone knew he was the cute little kid who freaked you out with ghost stories and alien talk during arts and crafts time. I didn’t know why me sharing my “dream wedding” was funny because it was rather serious to me, although I was a six year old who still thought kissing was gross. Years later, in third grade to be exact, the same boy made fun of me for wearing a bra. I was just a girl growing up. I didn’t understand why having fat on my chest was a joke. If I hadn’t liked him when I was younger, I probably would’ve called him a poop head and walked away. Instead I took it like a champ and laughed it off. Laughing became my coping mechanism, and my worst enemy.

Now I’m not going to explain the things that I went through because most would probably dismiss it as a teenager growing up. I’m not crazy or will ever claim to be unless I’m admitted to a psychiatric ward, but I’ve had a lot of time to reflect on my past and I’ve realized that I’m the only one who can help myself. From struggling with confidence, self esteem, and my body image I’ve come a long way. I’m the only one that can change those things. I remember a few years ago I was told that someone said, “Maja was nicer before she got pretty”. I don’t know if that is true but it’s crazy that someone would say that about me. What classifies as “getting pretty”? Going through puberty, growing into myself, caring about what I look like? Everyone has their awkward stage as a child, so I didn’t understand why being nice had anything to do with my looks. All of my life I’ve never felt truly beautiful, and me changing my attitude towards people was because of the way people treated me. I was sick of people walking all over me and treating me like I didn’t matter. I wouldn’t say I became more mean, I just didn’t let people talk down to me. I spoke my mind and told the truth. I decided that I wasn’t going to hide my feelings for the sake of someone else’s.

People may think I’m loud and obnoxious, or that I don’t care about other people’s feelings. They may think I’m just a b****, but I’m more happy with the person I am today than the person I was a few years ago. The way I feel about myself is way more important than how other people feel about me. I have to live with myself and be happy. Everyone in life is temporary, even the boy I was in love with in kindergarten.