I can clearly picture how limitless my self-confidence would have been at this point in my life if I didn’t have a brother like him. I would be 110% happy with who I am and accept every single one of my flaws to the point that I’d know I’m worthy of being with somebody by now. I would love myself enough to think that I’m worth other people’s time. But instead, I’m this bitter, self-loathing individual approaching the beginning of adulthood with nothing positive to say about herself - all because I grew up with a rude, insensitive, and obnoxious brother whose only words to me are condescending remarks about everything that I could possibly hate about myself, physically and emotionally. I will never understand what satisfaction there is to deliberately shatter someone’s self-esteem, and I certainly don’t find it humorous to degrade anyone in public especially if it concerns their imperfections.
In all seriousness though, why do I even care about what this pathetic, arrogant little boy has to say? Perhaps because he’s family (unfortunately)… but regardless of this familial relationship, I should constantly tell myself that his opinions are of no value to me. I should focus on the ones who make me feel like I’m one of a kind. I always seem to forget that I receive incredibly heartwarming compliments nearly every day from strangers, other family members, and friends even when I look my worst. I need to learn to be more mindful of all the positive comments I’ve been told even if I never believed them. Sometimes, I feel like I’m getting there, but I often find that I revert to my hideous insecurities when I’m in this household.
Note to self: Get out more and find my way in an unfamiliar place because maybe I might just meet people who will appreciate anything I never did about myself.
If you know me personally or have been following my posts for the past year or so, you’d know that high school wasn’t the best time of my life and I was beyond exhilarated to get out of there when I had the chance. Exactly a year ago was the day that I looked forward to the most throughout that experience, which finally signified the end of a chapter in my life that I thought I’d never want to revisit.
I haven’t seen many of my classmates since then, and I was quite thankful for that… or at least I thought I was. Tonight marked the same bittersweet event for this year’s seniors, and I can’t help but think about who I’d encounter if I had gone to their graduation. More than several of my former classmates seem to have attended the ceremony, most of whom I never really associated with, but part of me somehow wishes that I was there tonight. I guess I wanted to take one last look at high school before I move to a whole new city with absolutely nobody to recognize. I think I wanted to see how much everyone has changed and have them see how much I have changed. Maybe I haven’t entirely let go of some aspects of high school - little things like seeing familiar faces at the lockers every day or sitting in a classroom full of people I’ve acquainted with for the past few years. I guess I was hoping to at least have a taste of some of those experiences again before I completely leave behind the people I recognize and the memories I’ve made in this city where I spent my adolescence.
I don’t know why, but I just feel the need to have closure with those I wasn’t even friends with. I didn’t realize it’d be this difficult to face the fact that this part of my life really has concluded, and I might actually never see these strangers and acquaintances again, not that I ever even cared about them in high school. Perhaps, I just wanted to take one last glimpse of what those four years would have been like if the person I am today, whom I am much happier with, were to encounter the people who surrounded me during those experiences… because maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad.
Still not over the terrible ending of How I Met Your Mother, so here’s an accurate elaboration that I found of why it was the worst ending possible.
"Dear How I Met Your Mother Creators, To say I was disappointed in the series finale of How I Met Your Mother is a gross understatement. I am disconcertingly, irretrievably, unfathomably disappointed in the way you chose to end what used to be my absolute favorite television series of all time, to the point where it makes me physically ill to think about. For nine seasons you taught us to believe in magic, and in destiny, and happy endings, and in the fates always working out in the end, no matter how bumpy the road to get there was. This ending absolutely destroyed everything that was magical about this series. A few things you destroyed: Barney Stinson. From the moment we saw Barney asking about his tie at the end of season 6, and realized that he was getting married, we have seen the character of Barney Stinson evolve, albiet slowly from a manipulative womanizer to a gentlemen worthy of marrying Robin Sherbatsky. When he finally vowed to always tell Robin the truth the moment before he married her, I was proud of him and the full circle that he had done. And then, in one episode, you destroyed three seasons of character development for Barney and made him devolve into an unfunny, immature scumbag of a guy who knocked somebody up and who wasn’t even happy about having a child until the moment he held her in his arms. What a SAD, MISERABLE ending for one of the most diverse characters in the show. Robin Sherbatsky. Ruined her character as well. So she becomes famous, ditches all of her friends and her husband for her career, and lives an anti-social life where she eventually ends up all alone in her old apartment with more dogs? I could have lived with the mother dying. I could have lived with this. I could have been happy. I could have made it work. But you decided to take it one step further. You decided to ruin Ted Mosby. You decided to turn Ted Mosby from a hopeless romantic telling an amazingly beautiful story of how he met the mother of his children into some elaborate ploy to ask his kids’ permission to pursue Robin again. Robin. THE SAME WOMAN WHO MARRIED HIS BEST FRIEND AND WHO TOLD TED SHE DID NOT LOVE HIM AND THAT THEY WOULD NEVER WORK OUT EVER BECAUSE THEY WERE TOO FUNDAMENTALLY DIFFERENT PEOPLE. By the way, way to break the bro code, Ted. You shattered Ted’s character by convincing us he finally moved on from Robin. But no. Still pining after the same woman after 20+ years. Makes me physically ill. But the worst thing…. You ruined The Mother and her story. You turned her death into a minor part, another hurdle Ted had to jump to finally reach Robin. We did not see ANY mourning from Ted for the death of his wife. We did not see their final moments together. We did not see the funeral. We did not hear any sadness from her kids. All we heard was "Oh by the way, the mother got sick and died, let’s talk about Robin instead". Makes me absolutely sick to my stomach. You ruined the magic. And for that, I will forever be disappointed. In my mind, the series ended with Barney and Robin’s wedding. A snippet of Ted seeing the mother playing bass on stage. Finally meeting her at the train station. Flash forwards of their lives together. Ted proposes. They have an amazing life and two children together. She slowly gets sick and eventually passes away. And in order to honor her memory, he sits his kids down and tells them the long, amazing story of how he met the love of his life. And that’s the true story of how Ted met the mother, the love of his life. At least, that’s the story I will be remembering. Sincerely, A Disappointed Viewer"
To the teacher who impacted my high school career the most,
Thank you so much for acknowledging my writing in 9th grade even though I know I’m not that great of a writer, but for someone as incredibly knowledgeable as you to tell me otherwise, I had to trust your opinion and believe that I was good enough to keep going. You were stern at times, but that’s how I learned the best. Without all your encouraging words, I wouldn’t have found writing as my escape. I wouldn’t have survived high school without expressing myself through written words, and I owe that all to you. You’re not only a great teacher but also a remarkable and strong person. I wish I visited you at the hospital two years ago to tell you how thankful I am for everything you taught me. You not only impacted my education but also the way I viewed myself. I didn’t think I was good at anything in high school until you gave me endless encouragement about my essays and fictional stories. Thank you for leading me to my escape. My prayers go to your family, especially your incredibly young daughter who I’m sure will grow up to be a great woman like you.
P.S. That ghost story I wrote four years ago that you admired so much wasn’t real. Sorry!
Rest in paradise.
“Every girl is expected to have Caucasian blue eyes, full Spanish lips, a classic button nose, hairless Asian skin with a California tan, a Jamaican dance hall ass, long Swedish legs, small Japanese feet, the abs of a lesbian gym owner, the hips of a nine-year-old boy, the arms of Michelle Obama and doll tits. This is why everyone is struggling.”
— Tina Fey
It’s sad how a girl can feel so easily deprecated knowing that she barely has any of these features. It’s incredibly rare nowadays to find someone who thinks that brown eyes, small lips, a wide nose, dark skin, or non-hourglass figures are attractive because of this distorted perception of beauty. I typically appreciate what I have, but there are days when obnoxious, demeaning people like my brother constantly point out every physical flaw I have, therefore making me think that I should reconstruct my face. I just don’t understand why anyone would have the audacity to verbalize something so insensitive concerning a matter that you can’t do anything about. I don’t care if it’s an insult about my personality, thinking, or interests because those are things I can gradually change if I wanted to, but when it comes to appearance, it haunts me for eternity and I don’t think I can ever fully love myself. At one point, I imagined a scenario where I would get into a terrible accident in which surgical procedures would be required to fix certain parts of my face… then I realized how absolutely ridiculous that mindset was because screw whatever society thinks is beautiful. Screw what my brother says about my “ugly” massive beak. Screw my weak mentality for letting it get to me in the first place… because odds are most people don’t even notice it. It’s a difficult process to learn, but loving what you have by gradually disregarding insignificant insecurities is one step closer to happiness. I need to constantly remind myself that I’d rather have a unique, undesirable feature than look like one of society’s “beautiful” clones. So ladies (and gents), find your strength and forget about the horrible people who shatter your self-esteem. Some decent people out there or even a special someone will think that everything you hate about yourself is beautiful, and whoever they are, please believe what they say.