As a young girl, I just wanted to be accepted.

I've done a lot to try to make that happen.

All these people, and their ideas of what is considered cool. I wanted to be cool.

I tried so hard.

Too hard.

I used to be so innocent.

I look back on that little girl, and I want to call out to her. She obviously can't hear me. So I cry. Because I look at that girl, and then I look in the mirror at the person she'll become in 10 years.

And I hate myself.

I look at myself, and I hate me. I hate me and all of the people who made me feel like I wasn't good enough. I hate how I wanted to be accepted so badly by people who, frankly, I didn't even care about.

I hate all the people who trampled over me. Who made me feel small. Who made me feel like I was just a stupid little girl, who made me feel like I needed to change.

I look at that little girl, and I have to cry. Because that little girl was beautiful, and I wish that someone had told her so. Maybe she wouldn't have felt the need to change, or be cool. She was already unique.

I have a good life, I really do. My parents love me, and each other. My brother loves me. My friends love me.

But I have to wonder if even the person I am now is really who I am. I've changed myself so many times for so many people that I've lost track of myself.

I don't like the person I've turned out to be. But according to my elders, I'm still young. Maybe I still have time to fix all this. Maybe I can change, but this time, for the better. Maybe I can change, but this time, not for anyone else's sake. Maybe I can change for me.