I used to be “that” girl. The girl who’s life consisted of social media comments and everyone else’s opinion. The girl who had to dress according to society’s version of trendy. The girl who dated girls that were society’s idea of beautiful with a substantial amount of instagram followers. The girl who forced herself to be seen at all the right places and be seen doing all the wrong things. The girl who got herself involved in all the drama so all eyes were on her. The girl that everyone knew; or at least they thought they knew. But “that” girl is gone. The was a second skin, a wall, protective layer hiding my center. See; I do not care what other people think of me. What they think of my short hair or how I “dress like a boy”. What they think of the girls I date because, no, the right girl for me does not look like a vogue cover model or have no brain cells, she’s realistically beautiful and a gold soul and she appreciates me and does not emotionally abuse me the minute her fake smile melts away. What they think of the things I do and how I do not want to be seen at all the right places or that I have morals and do not want to do all the wrong things because it just so happens to be what everyone else is doing. What they think of the girl who used to be the center of drama, who now sits at the back of the classroom absorbed into book after book-the girl who does not have two hundred fake friends and posts on social media every second of every day. I may be different; but I like being different. And my opinion is the only one who matters.