Everyone's a Critic.

I am not perfect. I know that. I can be rude, self-centred, arrogant, obnoxious, annoying and more. I do not claim to be perfect. I don't think you do either. I make mistakes. I have SO many flaws. Trust me, I know. I try to be the best that I can be. I have better days than some. I sometimes do not even realize the way I act because who can really keep in check 24/7? I slip up. I fcuk up. I'm human. Some people are just not meant to mesh. I'm fine with that. We can be civil. We just can't be friends. Not everyone you meet is going to like you. It's just the way it is. Life isn't fair. And it sure as hell isn't easy. I try to put up a strong front. I try to be confident. I try so hard to not let others define me or get the best of me. But really, who am I kidding. I have insecurities. I have my doubts. I probably am my own worst enemy. I pick at all the things I've done wrong, all my imperfections, all my flaws. You have no idea how long it's taken me to build my self-esteem to where it is. I put up a cold front because I'm afraid of people seeing the real me. The girl that gets worked up over strangers judging her. The girl who is an emotional wreck. The girl who cries during movies that aren't even meant to be sad. I'm afraid that people will take it as a sign of weakness and take advantage. I don't want to be vulnerable to hurt. I don't want to appear weak. I'm not always right. I'm often wrong. I'm unable to open up to people easily. I don't like talking about my problems. I take a lot of warming up to. I have trust issues. I'm blatantly honest. I have a weird sense of humour. Those who know me, know it's just the way I am. It has nothing to do with the way I was brought up, it's my own personality. I don't like pretending to be fake. It's just not who I am. I'm not going to extend an olive branch to every single person that crosses my path because if they were meant to be apart of my life, it wouldn't be necessary.

"Those who matter don't mind and those who mind don't matter" - Dr. Seuss