I was homeschooled as a kid, until eighth grade. I then transferred to a private academy and graduated with a class that consisted of merely five people. Needless to say, I didn’t have a lot of friends growing up.

I say this not to complain and whine – because I have since gotten over the fact that I grew up alone. The overarching issue concerning my childhood is that I tried desperately to fit in with anyone I could – going to incredible lengths to be friends with anyone and everyone who would befriend me, changing myself to fit in with what they enjoyed and liked, so that we would have something in common and they would want to be around me more.

Endearing as my intentions may have been, changing for others was possibly the most detrimental idea I have ever had.

As a preteen, I would do whatever my girlfriends would do – I would buy the same Aeropostale clothes. High school came, and I styled my hair to match my friends, I started wearing gaudy amounts of makeup. I dated a guy and had several friends who were really into metal – I dubbed myself as a metalhead, listening to Tyler Carter on the daily. Later, I dated a guy who was a complete redneck – so I went out and bought myself tons of camo clothing, started watching Duck Dynasty, and taught myself how to fish. The list goes on and on of the things I would do to fit in. At the beginning of college, I went to a few parties and made a whole lot of bad decisions because I wanted so badly to be cool. To fit in.

My dear friends and readers. You don’t have to do this.

I cannot tell you how many times I have looked in the mirror at a girl/woman I did not recognize.

I have looked in the mirror and asked myself, “Who the hell are you?” a few dozen times in my life, and have truly meant it.

To feel like a stranger in my own body is the most terrifying feeling I have experienced thus far. I hated myself. I was depressed – funny thing, the more you try to change yourself so you can have friends, the more sad and alone you feel.

I am happy to report that since then, I have stopped looking at my true self as imperfect, flawed and not good enough. Sure, those thoughts still reoccur, but I have matured to a level that I no longer have such a strong desire to be like everybody else.

How did I get here?

I’m so glad you asked.

I asked myself a simple question –

“What makes you truly happy?”

The minute I asked myself that question, suddenly no one else was relevant other than myself. And while that may seem selfish, I know that it was what had to happen.

What makes me happy?

Swinging. Fireworks. Short, flowing dresses. Natural makeup with a killer contour. Doing my eyeliner. Talking about women’s rights. Dunkin Donuts and Dutch Bros. runs. Talking about social issues. Reading literature. Having bright red hair. Wearing cute bikinis. Traveling. Driving. Mellow music. Hip Hop. A good rap bar. Going to the mall. Asking questions. Doubting. Believing. Searching. Writing.

The list goes on...

What else makes me happy? Having friends from a plethora of different places and life stories who don’t expect me to change the person I am to be friends with them, and appreciating friendship with people who are wonderfully different than I am.

I have never been happier than I am today.

I encourage you – before you go on the long journey to try and find yourself, ask yourself:

“What makes me happy?”

Then go do those things. Enjoy those things, and don’t let anybody tell you otherwise …even yourself.

I promise you, you will find happiness and you will find yourself much more quickly.

Why?

Because they go hand in hand.
Choose to be happy.