I am an overthinker. I get stressed about the little things. I hate how negative I am. I hate how I talk about myself too much. I do not like reaching out. I cannot make anyone smile. My fashion taste sucks. I am not good at anything. I hate myself.

I talked to a friend the other day, not someone I talk to about deep things. Just small things like homework, but it was 3am. We decided to talk about our past experiences with toxic people, and how I let them, and their horrible words get to me. He told me I looked deeply into things, but that it was just a part of me, I said it was stupid. I said I was an overthinker. He said, “I think you care”.

I got upset at my brother for bothering me about how his day went while I was working. I told him I was upset sternly, and my brother went back to his room in silence. After I finished, I thought about my priorities. What I loved more, and I thought one day, my brother might not come back to tell me about his day because of what I said.        “I’m so sorry. How did your day go?”                         We started over

I watched a movie about a girl who gave up herself up for the love of her life. I asked, “why?”. My mother looked over, and she said, “Don’t you have someone you would give up anything for?”. I thought about how if one day if I had to choose, my family would always come first. There would be a hole in my heart without them.

That friend I talked to at 3am, I asked him if I talk about myself too much. He told me, he thinks I don’t talk about myself enough. I thought that was ridiculous, I could babble on forever. But I realized that was in my mind. I needed to let go and be comfortable with the fact that I can talk about myself without people telling me I am full of myself.

My jokes seemed boring; I don’t have a way with words. I didn’t seem to have the ability others had. The ability spread sunshine to the dull grass. But I looked up. I looked down again, but had the image burned in my eyes. I had said something, and they smiled. I looked up again to see that sweet light once more, and there it was. It never left, I just hid under my umbrella.

Hoodies are always what I wear. It’s one of the only things I wear. Maybe because I felt smaller, hidden, maybe because I felt comfortable. But I looked around, and most people wore better looking clothes. But I saw how they moved freely, how what other people thought didn’t mean much. I looked down and smiled, my hoodies were nice. They reminded me of my grandmother in England, and how her warm hugs felt.

I really felt I could never sing. I thought I wasn’t cut out, and I was tone deaf. I gathered my courage to talk to a friend, maybe even give a demo. But the timing wasn’t right. I slipped. My eyes shut as I heard a giggle. I never wanted to open them again. Suddenly, another girl came. She forced my eyes open, she told me I sounded amazing. She was my best friend, she told me the song I wrote looked like old, sophisticated poetry. I couldn’t help the tears. She made me feel so  a m a z i n g.

I think deeply about things. I worry about the people I love, and about my own life. I bring a new point of view to the table. I express myself. I let my closest friends and family know about my little secrets. I love telling people how beautiful they look. I love how the words I speak/speak can make people smile. My clothes make me comfortable and embody my personality.

I love myself.

P.S. No one is going to be the person they want to be, trying times may or may not help. But believe it or not, you are growing. When the winter passes, you will become the brightest blossom you could ever be. Merry Christmas! You are loved.