Before You Judge

Upon first glance, I am your typical eighteen year old girl with her head stuck in the clouds.  I laugh at crude jokes and I don't understand half of what is said to me and a large amount of the time, I choose to disregard the rules set out for me.

But before you judge me - and no doubt, you will choose to judge me, it is human nature - let me tell you just a few secrets.

You don't know me.  You know nothing about me.  Well, you might sneer, I know that you are tall, that you have brown hair and brown eyes. I know that you write.  And indeed you are correct.  But you don't know ME, my thoughts, my worries, dreams and desires.  And if for no other reason than explanation, cold-hard self exploration, or personal contemplation, I am going to try my hardest to show you who I really am.

I will start off by saying that I am not my scars, though they are inherently me at my worst.  In the depths of my despair I would hide my phone and refuse to get anyone else involved with my inner struggles, the demons that would gnash their teeth and dig their claws into my brain.  Worthless, they called me. Stupid, hopeless.  They would scream, You mess everything up, they would scream until I would grab my scissors or knife and dig it into my ankles.  They would scream until they saw blood.  And I would weep pitifully on my bed, dry my eyes, and walk to a sorority meeting where the whole time I would smile and talk about how lovely my day had been.  Nobody would notice my hand clenched down on my ankle.

I am not the mistakes that I have made.  Imagine getting so angry that you punch yourself until your entire arm is black and blue.  I've been there.  Imagine looking in the mirror and hating your reflection, hating the face staring back at you, so much that for seven years, you force yourself to vomit up to ten times a day, even after you had starved yourself.  I've been there.  Some days I'm still there.  Imagine being taunted and teased so heavily, made to feel so worthless and useless, that one night you swallow a bottle of pills and pray that you'll never wake up.  Because guess what?  I've been there too.  And I've survived.

I am not a slut.  All of my boyfriends have cheated on me.  One hit me.  He called me fat, ugly, a nothing.  I was molested when I was younger and the guy I lost my virginity to was also the one that raped me.  I confess that after that happened, I got with any guy who wanted me.  In some sick way, I wanted to prove that I was still worth something, that someone still found me desirable, because after that incident, I hated myself more and more every day.

So what are you? you are probably asking now. Who are you  That is a great question and I don't know if I am anywhere near being able to answer it fully.  But I promised you an insight into myself and so I shall give it.

I am still a child.  Yes, eighteen is legally grown up, but I am not above climbing trees or blowing bubbles.  I enjoy Disney movies and playing on playgrounds, and I love a good nap every now and then.  I still use insults like "butthead" and make wishes on dandelions.

I am reckless.  I will drink until I pass out and forget the world around me.  Despite popular opinion, I do not do this because I like it, but rather because it makes all of the pain inside of me go away, even just for a little while.  I am reckless because I have no regards for my own life and would gladly give up my life if it meant saving someone close to me.

I am a romantic.  Regardless of what has happened to me in the past, I believe that true love exists.  I fall in love a little with everyone I meet and I hope someday to be able to love someone wholeheartedly.  I'm also afraid.  Of love.  Of trust.  Of letting down my walls, letting someone close enough to hurt me.  So I often play it off like love and everything about it is pointless.

I want to be a famous writer and live in a little house with lots of animals.  I want to learn how to skateboard and learn to play guitar.  I'd like to watch the sun rise and set and someday I'd like to hike up a mountain.

I am weak.  I have let myself destroy so much happiness in my life.  I have kept my anguish hidden because I have never been strong enough to ask for help.  But I am growing.  I am learning.  And someday soon I will be stronger.  I will make it, I promise you that.

So now the rest is up to you.  I have given you some information and once you've read it you will have just scratched the surface on who I am.  You will probably still judge me, I judge myself everyday.  But now you know that not everything is what it seems.  And not everyone is who they seem to be at first glance.