Recently everyone in my life has been trying to change me. I am not quite sure why, but everyone seems to have an opinion on what I should look like and how I should be behaving. What gives other people the right to decide what is best for another person? I mean, if the worlds most perfect person came up to me and had some advice for how I too could perfect myself, I might listen.....but when people who's lives are far from perfect start trying to tell me what color my nail polish should be, there is a problem.
The crazy part is that after awhile you start to listen to these people. You start to question yourself and your style and your hair and then you realize.........I am where I am today because of who I am. I am where I am today because I am the girl that rocks BLOOD RED (its not black!) nail polish, has a pink streak in her hair and thinks motorcylce boots with a dress is sexy.
You sometimes have to take a step back and realize that if you changed your style and your image to be what these people want you to look like and act how they want you to act.......you would be just like them. You would never leave your Orange County safety net and you would be getting nose jobs, boob jobs and lip injections hoping to make yourself look so "perfect" on the outside, no one would realize how fucked up you are on the inside. You would spend all your time trying to meet a rich guy with money, instead of figuring out how to be successful on your own.
Guys in this town act like they want the girl that has a good head on her shoulders. They say they want to meet a girl that dates them for them, not for the money. But it's all a bunch of bullshit. They want the mindless piece of arm candy that allows them to treat them like dirt and will never have an alternate opinion as long as the bottle service keeps coming to the table and the Louis Vuitton luggage sets keep showing up under the Christmas tree. They want the girl that they can dress up like barbie and show off to their friends and she has to be dumb, because any chick with 1/2 a brain would see thru their shit in seconds and realize, " you aren't rich, you're just maxing out your credit cards, your drug use isn't recreational- its a problem, you are a few 6 packs away from being fat and you are quite possibly bi-polar, if not plain flat out fucking crazy" and she would run away as fast as she could in the other direction.
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