I am Leah. I am in college. I study journalism, run two blogs, and somehow juggle five jobs, and I haven’t made a post on here in four weeks.
I am busy — always, especially during the school year. I like to do well and dress great. For my entire life, when others have been asked to describe me in one word, they’ve always only said some form of the adjective “smart.” And that’s because I really am smart.
I’m a nerd, actually — one of those people who truly enjoys learning, maybe a little too much. But people still like me despite it, so whatever. I think it’s because I’m pretty laid back and humble, only speaking when asked because I know how much everyone hates someone who steps out of line. So it helps me to not come across as too annoying.
But in all honesty, I really am pretty annoying. I have a lot of passion inside this oddly shaped body, so once I get talking, I just really can’t ever seem to shut up. Which obviously ends up becoming a problem. So I try to stay as quiet as I possibly can, knowing that it’s probably just best that way, for everyone’s sanity.
Said quietness has made me very contemplative, though. Literally, I now am constantly thinking, without a stop. It’s just kind of become a habit. I guess that’s a good thing, since many people seem to have the complete opposite problem, but it’s also very bad for me at times. Those times include on tests, after social outings, and during stressful situations. I’m sure the reasons why those are bad moments for overthinking are quite obvious, so I won’t explain.
Getting away from that, though, I am tired all the time. Even if I’ve slept for 13 hours straight and done absolutely nothing but veg for a whole week, I will still be really freaking tired. Maybe I don’t get enough iron. I don’t know. I don’t take vitamins or eat nearly enough fruits and vegetables as I should (no matter how hard I try to), so that’s probably actually the cause. I should really take care of that.
My whole body is freckled, I have probably 10-ish birthmarks in various places (including one on each hand), my eyes are ginormous, my lashes are ten feet long, my lips are really big, my feet point in instead of out, my heels and elbows are as dry as the Sahara, I have really bad eczema in the winter, I have never fit into a size zero in my life, and my first love ever was Nick Carter of the Backstreet Boys.
I know a lot of different people, but not a lot of different people know me. I’m the fly on the wall, there but unnoticed, and it allows me to catch some pretty cool, surprising, book-worthy events that definitely wouldn’t have occurred otherwise.
I’ve never had a real boyfriend, I cannot fix my hair for the life of me, and I would be totally happy if I ended up just working in Disney World sweeping the streets for the rest of my life. Why? Because although I love journalism, I love Disney even more. And what I love most is the thought of one day being able to follow my true passion: creative writing. I really hope I can make it come to fruition — and actually be able to earn some dough from it.
Speaking of dough, I love baking, and speaking of baking, I’ve never done drugs in my life. I’ve also never caked my face with concealer and loose powder in order to obtain what experts say is long-lasting, flawless skin but what I think is just more of an acne nightmare. So no face baking for me, either.
And now that I’ve written 600-some words all about myself, I have to stop. I can’t take the pain anymore. (And trust me, this really was painful.)
I hate talking about myself when I don’t have to, mostly because I just feel like there’s more important things in the world worth considering. However, I also feel like I need to get over that and start talking about myself a tad bit more.
It’s not that I don’t love myself and thus try to avoid bringing myself up. It’s rather that I don’t feel like I’m important enough to warrant conversation solely about me. And that’s a problem. Everyone should think himself important, no matter how important one truly is. However, no one should let that level of self-love lead to self-entitlement. Thinking highly of yourself and thinking you’re better than everyone else (and thus that you deserve everything in life because the world revolves around you, the one who is the best) are two completely different things, and they should not be confused.
But what’s the reason why we should all think ourselves important?
Because we really are important (not to sound too much like a motivational speaker here), and we need to realize that. We need to care about ourselves just as much as we care about everyone else, and in doing so, the world might just become a better place.
Why? Because if we learn to love ourselves, then we can finally truly love everyone else, for there will be nothing to make us feel insecure and unsure and thus scared and hateful and hurtful. If we all become confident in who we are — if we all start to think ourselves important — then we can eliminate that self-hatred we all have that leads us to our worst moments.
Believing you’re important really only happens by facing what you hate most about yourself, for what you hate most about yourself is what makes you insecure and thus makes you feel unimportant (and then scared, fearful, and hurtful). So in order to crush that hurtful fear and start to love, you must first find yourself important.
So that’s why I spent the night talking about myself, in order to love myself a little bit more and thus be able to start loving better everyone else. And I feel it has worked. I named all that I find odd about me, and my hope is that since it’s now all out in the open, I won’t let it get me down so much — which, in turn, means that I will start loving even more.
I want to take a moment to apologize. If this doesn’t make any sense at all, I truly am sorry. It’s just that at the very end of writing this (about an hour ago), my father very suddenly had a heart attack, and so I had to go take care of some other things. And now I have a lot on my mind, so I will not really be editing this at all, just posting it to get it out of my hair.
As of now, he is okay, but it’s still got me pretty worried. I hope you understand. Apologies, once again, and thank you for being such a wonderful audience. I love you, dearies.
Until next time ❤
ireallyhateconverse 