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.)

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