A drop of my evolution.

I was nine years old. I would make up my own words. I wasn't afraid of being goofy or strange. I didn't shave my legs -- in fact, I found it strange that there were nine year old's who shaved their legs. "But they're nine. Why does it matter? I just don't understand." I was open minded to the point where I got confused when other kids my age just weren't alright with certain things. Pastel pink and pastel blue overalls with Powerpuff Girls patches ironed on them to emphasize my love for these three globule looking characters. These outfits were completely distorted when paired with guys shirts and backwards baseball caps that confused my dad ('Oh come on, don't gang members wear hats like that?' 'No no no it's cool, I look awesome when I wear it like this!') Self-proclaimed tomboy. Videogames became my life, and so did anime and manga. By age eleven I left that private school, away from what I considered judgmental eyes at such a young age -- what eyes weren't? We were growing. I would sit in my new public school class, silent. Again, the odd one out -- fresh out of private school, fresh into public school, fresh into 6th grade with only one year with my classmates. One year to get to know them, let them get to know me, then depart again once we went on to middle school. I had a bob cut. I still wore pastels but paired them now with lace headbands. I was still a self-proclaimed tomboy. Pink was disgusting, and so were boys. They were 'boogery'. But I secretly had a crush on a guy who had dandruff and wore the same shirt with stains on it all the time. Again, no one bothered to get too close to me. The one person who ended up being my best friend was pushed away by me in 9th grade. I did a lot of that. Pushing away. I was too caught up with my imagination -- life wasn't important, I was only eleven. Life wasn't important, I was only thirteen. I was only fifteen.

Fifteen and somewhat angsty, yet still goofy on the outside. Hot Topic was my style of choice. Privatized the goofyness once I entered high school the year before -- I was weird for thinking the ending theme song of Trigun was my favorite. "What are you half Japanese or something?" No, no of course not. Why, do I have to be? I don't understand? I thought we weren't in middle school anymore? Why am I being judged again? Girls just can't be goofy in high school so it seems. It's always the guys. I never got it. Begin my countdown to graduation once I enter tenth grade. I make friends here over the next few years, get close to them, close enough for them to become familiar with me -- to like me for who I am, for some strange, unknown reason. Little do we all know that this moment in time will never happen again once we part ways.

I'm seventeen. I'm about to graduate in a few months. I'm my own kind of rebellious with golden streaks on the lower level of my hair and in my bangs. I get sick of this very quickly. Being a senior makes me a big girl in my mind. I have no clue what I'm doing. I'm in denial about falling in love with someone so quickly because for some weird reason they actually like that I'm me. But why? 90% of the other people thought it was weird to be weird -- but you don't. "He's like a brother but he's really not at all whatsoever because I'm in love with the guy and I'm too afraid to tell him and man I'm still young I've never had a boyfriend before, how the hell does this shit work?" My high school friends find it funny for a while. Then we end up not being so close anymore.

I was seventeen then. At twenty-one now I'm still with him. He still digs that I'm weird. He's my best friend. And also, we're engaged. My high school friends have left my surroundings for the most part -- time happened, that's why. I'm in the process of making new friends. Or I probably already have. Or I'm always in the process, for some reason. I don't know how friends work, I never really have. I just like to make people feel good and laugh and be happy and know that I'm there. A lot of people don't realize this. Or they don't take it to their advantage. Or they don't care.

Remember when I was nine and I was really weird and into strange things? And how a lot of people didn't get it or didn't bother getting it? Remember how I questioned a lot of people, their actions, their words, their reactions? This still happens. A lot of it still absolutely happens. Does it make me look closed and unapproachable? Probably. Possibly.

But the funny part is, suddenly now the shit I do is cool. Either that or we all grew up. Have I changed, or have I matured? Oh yeah -- definitely the last one. But I'll never be ashamed of the nine year old with hairy legs, pastel overalls and lace headbands that thought she was going to be a snowboarder when she grew up. Because I'm still her, in a weird way. I still blurt out weird noises and sing like a trumpet and have the ability to be intimately open about myself yet throw up a wall at the same time.

But it's okay, because now it's cool. Sometimes I wonder how self-consciousness works(ed) for me -- because even when I was judged, I didn't think about altering who I was.