I realized I made it to a point I always hoped I could get to the day my boyfriend said he didn’t like the dress I was wearing, and I promptly replied that that was okay, because he didn’t have to wear it. He laughed, I laughed, that was the end of that. What was so triumphant about this was that a few years ago, I would have been very bothered by his honesty. That moment of really, truly not caring what someone else thought (someone else I cared about) was such an accomplishment for me, because let me tell you a few things about myself.
I guess the truth about me is that I used to define myself by what others thought. A simple concept, sure, and I think everybody does it to some extent. But I was so unsure of myself, I felt as though I had to look to other people to give me the affirmation that yes, I was okay, and worthy, and a real human deserving of love and all of life’s other wonderful things. At the time, I didn’t know if anything I did was okay or not, from the clothes I wore to the people I liked to the music I listened to and the way I spoke. How did I even get that damn insecure?
Admitting your former (and sometimes, unfortunately, present) irrational hatred for yourself publically isn’t one’s proudest moment. And I know there will be people who judge me for being so petty at one point in my life, but that’s okay, because they are right to some degree, I was petty. And silly. But here’s the thing: I’ve been able to accept that every part of my past is also part of my truth, part of my story, and I’m somehow not afraid of telling it anymore.
It may be because I know that every person reading this has, in some way, at some level, has experienced what I did. Everybody feels this way at some point. And this idea has also led me to realize that I had no right to be upset if someone judged me, because I judged others, because I myself was insecure. I forgave (and forgive) those who pass judgment of me, because I know it’s more about themselves than it has anything to do with me.
I guess the point is: everything about you is fine. And the people who say otherwise are the ones who are feeling insecure and hurt and unsure. What someone says of you says more of them than it does of you. I’ve said this many times before and I don’t think I can say it enough… the opinions of others do not say anything about you. They’re just opinions. Very much like how your opinions of other people don’t change them—they just make you a hateful person. However, how you react to those opinions does matter, and that’s all that you can control, anyway.