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Confidence

Hey how is your day?

 

Confidence! Something we all need, but not everyone has.

Last year I wrote an essay about me being made fun of for wearing knee high black boots to school. You all may be thinking that’s it? Are you kidding me? And I would say no, I am not kidding you because being made fun of that day really made me somewhat insecure. That whole day I felt so uncomfortable, I felt like everyone was judging me. In the end, I didn’t give a fly F-word about what anyone was saying because at the end of the day I found out who was really there for me and who was not. Now, I looked back and say thank you to the people who were making fun of me because you know what they’re not important, they won’t go anywhere in life with that ugly spirit, and they help me get thicker skin. I hope you guys like my essay, it’s a dramatic, but all of the events true 😉

Asya’s Story Time!

Click! Clack! Click! Clack! That was the sound of my black leather knee-high boots as I walked down the white hallways of my High School. Everyone eyes were burning my soul with the glaring stares they were giving me because of the white glittery gold shimmer shirt with blue jean jeggings with the white sewed in patches. I had arrived at my blue locker with a silver outline; I gently put my hand on the black knob and started turning putting in my combination 24, 10, 49. WRONG! I was way off still discombobulated cause I keep flashing back to the way one African American girl with light brown eyes giving me the look a snobby rich kid would give if they had to work at a soup kitchen on their birthday. I tried again 35,88,8 I was in I opened the door to my locker-emptying my pink Jansport backpack filling my locker with my lunch box, French textbook, French composition, and my white overcoat. Call me crazy but I knew this day would go downhill from here yesterday I was the queen B or even pop princess with the dopiest clothes now I’m free falling from cloud nine landing just above the Asian nerds who heard the flood coming wearing their jeans all jacked up around there neck .I could hear in the back of my head my language arts teacher Mr. Wright saying “now there’s an excellent example of irony”. My closest friends met me at my locker I could already tell what they were going to say from the way they were struggling dragging their mouths on the ground. Amari a tall medium size built girl with teeth with big enough gaps to perfectly slice butter spoke saying “GGIRRRRRL I see you with them hooker boots tho”. I was waiting for anyone else to say anything but they didn’t I wonder why this was time for them to be like sharks in the water that smelled blood, they could have ripped me apart because of the millions of time I went Joan Rivers on them. Joan was a pre historic woman older then times its self from fashion police she’s been nipped and tucked so many times she would remind you of an ancient version of Dolly Parton mixed with Ronald McDonald, But Joan was a fashion GOD she could give Zeus a run for his money and power. As the day progress my confidence began to rise I wasn’t going to be a fashion victim, the third-period bell rung I begin to flash back to reality as I realized I keep replaying my tragedy. It’s lunchtime. I was sure this was going to be the most unsettling part of my day but I knew I have to face it because if I started running now I would never stop. I began at a slow pace putting one foot in front of the other feeling like my name had just been drawn to enter the Hunger Games I had arrived at the cafeteria. I walk in and I was ready for anything that was coming my way but at that moment I realized “I am Sasha Fierce. I’m much more interested in showing people the sensitive, the passionate, the compassionate person that I am. More so than Sasha Fierce. Being an icon is my dream. It is the ultimate compliment and it has a lot of responsibilities. I take it very seriously” I think to myself and my beautiful nightmare was over at that moment and it started when I started to care what people were thinking about me and now I realize that is everyone’s downfall. As the lunch bell rang I walked out of the cafeteria with my fist in the air feeling like Judd Nelson as I walk through the valley of fashion’s death and upon walking to the golden gates with the beautiful angels blowing on the golden trumpet’s to signify me that I have made it I hear “mama said there will be days like this, they’ll be days like this mama said” as my mom’s voice faded the golden bars opens. I became forever immortalized. An icon.

-Caution to the wind

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