“If there was one thing you can change about yourself, what would it be?”

I thought for a second. Then I thought for about three hundred more.

I have no idea.

I was a GOOD question. I love good questions. I give mad props to people who ask intriguing things. Things that make me stop and think. Things that give me that, I feel a blog post coming on kinda feeling.

What WOULD I change?

I sat there for a solid two minutes without saying a word. Now, that might not seem long to you. But when was the last time you asked someone a simple question and they just STARED for the next two minutes? You probably thought that person was rather special. As in, stop-eating-the-paste in kindergarten kind of special. Like, “Okkkkkkkkk then, really didn’t mean for the North Korea peace talks to be solved over this conversation, but you just keeppppppp deliberating over there….”

During that span when he was, most likely, questioning my IQ, here’s what ran through my head:

I probably shouldn’t argue so much. Actually fuck that, I LOVE that about myself. I wish I were a better speaker. Who am I kidding—my stories are hilarious. I wish I had six pack abs. Nah, I’ll get there—just keep doing core each morning. I wish I wouldn’t get so many parking tickets. Then WHAT on EARTH would I talk about!? I wish I was good at a cool sport like gymnastics. Screw that, running is the best thing that ever happened to me.

Holy shit. I freaking LOVE me.

That realization made me want to throw my arms around myself. And I don’t even like hugs.

I have crossed paths with soooooooo many people who made me think there was something wrong with me.

That I should be more agreeable, more girly, lift less, do more cardio, keep quiet, not express my opinion, not get upset, wear more makeup, wear less makeup, speak up, shut up, filter my speech, hustle more, rest more—

I. DO.NOT.CARE.

Because for all of my faults—which there are oh, so very, very, very many—I kind of…love these things. I secretly love that I’ve gotten $2,000 worth of parking tickets over the past several years. I love that I say precisely what is on my mind. I would so much rather have chronic RBF than toss out giggles in attempt to fill a conversation. Of the three things I value most—independence, authenticity, and being a badass—I believe I excel at all three. Even when it gets me in trouble.

And it does. Oh my God, does it get me into trouble.

There are people who can’t stand me. There are people, including ex-bosses, ex-boyfriends, and former friends; who tried very hard to change me. These people are preluded by an “ex” for a reason. Because these people tried, and thank goodness they failed, into turning me into someone I don’t want to be.

You are the only person who has to put up with you, 24 hours a day, seven days a week.

Therefore, YOUR judgment of YOU matters more than everyone else combined. You better LOVE yourself. You better think you are AWESOME. And if you do not like who you are, you better go fucking change that. But never, ever change yourself to appease another person, because their opinion does not even BEGIN to matter as much as yours. Make a decision on who YOU want to be, and go be that.

“I wish I could speak as well as I write,” I said.

Which, when you think about it, isn’t much of a change.