Get this. If I were me from, and I quote, the past, I would have just worn my one and only pair of sandals, jeans that I have put on like forever and finish things off with a baggy, pink shirt that made me get called Dora once. And if it were the old me, I could care less about appearance. The hair? Not a chance. I’d probably end up either going with my hair still wet or it, bombed. As for my face, I put nothing on. No facial gel, no lip balm – nothing. But the me right now isn’t like that. She puts on her best every time she goes out. She finally started to respect herself while having no idea that she didn’t back then. Her words of ‘it’s okay ‘ or ‘who cares’ were gone for good because that girl, for one, realized that she cared, above everyone else, about herself. She decided to embrace who she truly is. And so she did. Look at her now, wearing a pencil skirt she once thought as horrible, sleeveless top she once cringed at as revealing, and a choker she once hated as is; not going anywhere ’til she puts on that poppin’ lip balm, and dries that wet hair.
I thank you for that.