Early on, you knew you weren’t going to be Homecoming Queen or anything of the like.
There were the girls with shiny hair even in middle school. The ones who reapplied lip gloss in the hallway and somehow always looked cool doing it. They never went through an awkward stage, their skin somehow continued glowing throughout puberty. They knew just how to smile and giggle, boys flocking for a chance to talk to them.
These girls, these beautiful girls, were gifted with something you never quite had. They glided from class to class, totally unaware of you – the girl on the sidelines. You, the girl wondering why her hair didn’t look like that, or why her skin was speckled with red spots, some bleeding because she couldn’t stop picking.
But those girls were never the enemy. Even if that’s what society wanted you to think. They wanted to pit you against them, to redirect your insecurity as something else, make them the reason for your unhappiness.
And sometimes, it feels that way. The jealousies seep in and you wonder why you can’t be more like them. Why does your year-long crush have to go for them and not you? What are you missing? How can you be cooler, prettier, more like them?
There will be nights it hurts. Nights you ask to change. Nights you don’t want to be the person you were born to be.
But you get older. You escape high school. You start to see that the Pretty And Cool Girls and the Weird Girls are still the same, just packaged differently. They both hurt. They both love. They both find things in the mirror they dislike.
You, the Weird Girl, finally able to see that’s not a death sentence. Your differences do not make you unlovable. Being the most popular kid in school does not make anyone immune to pain or sorrow. You’re starting to see that now. You understand we all struggle, we all are fighting the same things.
And though the Pretty And Cool Girls are just as valid, just as important as you, the Weird Girl, this isn’t about them.
This is about you. This is about me. My tribe of weirdos.
All the girls who have stopped trying to fit in. All the girls who live loudly and bizarrely, and are sometimes branded as “too much.” The girls who are goofy and dance like nobody’s looking (because maybe no one is). The girls I love, the girls who make me laugh the hardest.
You were not made to be cookie cutter. You are not here to be like every other person you see. You look at the world differently, you’ve got a lens that, sometimes, only makes sense to you. I’m so proud of you for that. I’m so proud you’ve stopped pretending.
To all the Weird Girls, never stop being Weird.
Never stop loving the things you love.
Never stop being passionate.
Never stop surrounding yourself with the people who make you feel good.
Never stop accepting what you’re worth.
To all the Weird Girls, I love you. Thank you for, in return, loving me.