Not Giving a F**** (Fudge, Obviously)
I spent a lot of high school and a good deal of early college giving many, many fudges. I’d worry about my hair, my clothing, how I presented myself. I’d worry if I seemed too angry, too stupid. Within reason, my filter of public perception anxiety kept me from enjoying anything in life.
(E.g. if I’m too stupid, why should I say anything at all?)
Then I went to LA, and seeing all the street fashion, working with people just unapologetically being themselves…
Yeah, I wanted that confidence.
I stopped giving fudges.
I’m not stupid, you evil little voice in my head. I’m not too angry when I should be allowed to confront problems and face them head-on. And as for fashion, I’ll dress in all-black and chop my hair short, dye it red, and revel in the stares because this is ME.
Sure, maybe it’s a phase, but for now, not giving a fudge has given me such peace of mind. It’s made me who I am today. Confident. Able to defend herself. Feeling, low-key in my nerdy way, like a badass video game character I’d wanna cosplay.
Be the person you’d want to cosplay, my fellow nerds, and you’ll be incredibly happy.
(I’m personally a punk Raven from Teen Titans with a dash of Lara Croft mixed in. Super fun to be this way, trust me. Makes me 10x happier knowing I’m the hero my little child self would want to be.)
