Urghhhh

Dear Shakespeare,
A few days ago I was called a “sarcastic bitch” for voicing my views on feminism. On a pro feminist rant. The guy who called me this ironically wrote the rant, and continued on with a tirade of insults where he told me to “go the fuck away”. You know what the sickest part is? Instead of snapping my fingers in a ‘z’ formation and giving him some Beyoncé style sass as to why it is NOT ok to refer to me as a bitch I started to get anxious. When I get anxious my stomach starts to hurt, I cry and cliché as it sounds I feel as fragile as thin poorly made glass. Do you know why I felt anxious? Because I worried that maybe he was right, maybe I was too sarcastic or maybe I had said everything wrong in an inarticulate mess and it actually could have been seen as offensive. You might feel disgusted at me now. How pathetic/submissive/urghh is she? In retrospect I realise how a sad and dangerous those thoughts were. Mostly because they represent a larger problem I see in myself…  

[Cue angsty, feelings-y paragraph where I talk about emotions, eww]

The problem I am referring to is that my emotions seem to be greatly affected by the reactions and comments of those around me.  How problematic is this?  It means that how I feel is left to the mercy of those judging me. And people can be mean. Where is my ownership over myself? My opinions on me should matter the most because I am the one who lives with myself every day, who drags my tired body out of bed when it’s still dark outside to get ready for another day at school. Other people will forget me over time but I can’t forget myself. I don’t know why I care so much about what people say or think about me, it’s terrible and leaves my self-confidence scarily low. Is everyone like this?   Sometimes people tell me to “stop caring” as if it’s the easiest thing in the world and the only reason why I haven’t done so is due to reluctance. When someone says that it fucking annoys me.  If adopting a “don’t give a damn” attitude was as easy as dressing like Bender in the Breakfast Club I would have already done so, down to his little gold hoop earring.  

[end feelings-y paragraph]

I have more to say but I’ve confused myself, I just needed a mini rant on this topic, maybe soon I’ll write a proper and structured letter to you detailing my worries on the external dependency of my emotions. Until then, URGHHH

Truly Mary, 

  Ps. I am in HAIR HELL at the moment, a hairdresser cut me a front fringe without me asking and then charged me extra! My hair is super curly so it never stays proper and it makes me cry because I love fringes but it looks absolutely terrible on me :(

Pps. I was going to make the song for this letter No intention by Dirty Projectors but I think we need some Beyonce girl love