It seemed safer to hold it in, where the only one who could judge was me.
Just Listen by Sarah Dessen
Care what others think and you’ll always be their prisoner.
How many legs does a dog have if you call the tail a leg? Four. Calling a tail a leg doesn’t make it a leg.
Have you ever realized that when people say you’ve changed it’s because you stopped living life their way?
She’s too short. He’s too tall. Her eyebrows are too thick and his nose is too small. She acts too sad. He looks too weird. Her freckles are too big and no one likes his beard. Her mouth is full of metal. He has four eyes instead of two. Her hair is way too dark and his eyes are way too blue. She paints her nails black. He always wears a tie. She’ll never smile. He’ll never cry. She won’t be noticed. He won’t make the team. Her name will never be in lights and he’ll never achieve his dream. Why must we all be judged? Why is being accepted so tough? Why do people try so hard and why are teenage years so rough? No one should be judged. No one should be hurt by something you say. No one should be excluded and most of all no one should be treated this way.
You shouldn’t judge someone by what you see. You may be wrong about them like you were about me.
Her life is like a story, laid out for all to see but no one knows who she is because no one is willing to pick her up and read. They judge her by her cover and leave her on an old table of dust.
You think you know my feelings, my struggles, my fears, but it’s just like diary; you have no idea.
You’re not anyone to judge me. You think you know me because you know things about me, but you weren’t there through my struggles. You don’t know exactly how it was, just how it was told. That’s not a good enough reason to judge me. You can judge me when you have literally walked in my shoes from day one. Until then, I prefer you not make any indications about my life or me.
I hate that no matter how perfect I become in the future I’ll always be judged on my past.
Unless you’ve lived my life, don’t judge me, because you don’t know, never have, and never will know every little thing I’ve been through.
Your idea of me is fabricated with materials you have borrowed from other people and from yourself. What you think of me depends on what you think of yourself. Perhaps you create your idea of me out of material you would like to eliminate from your own idea of yourself. Perhaps your idea of me is a reflection of what other people think of you. Perhaps what you think of me is simply what you think that I think of you.