I am beautiful, no matter what they say.

     I'm not usually one to post sappy stuff about love, but this picture right here represents one of my goals in life: to grow old with someone who'll love and cherish me even when my skin starts to sag and my hair turns to grey. 
     Now that I'm in college, I've been exposed to multiple arrays of the opposite sex. I've had crushes here and there, and there are lots of them whom I find attractive--but none of them are right for me. It's not that I'm looking or anything at the moment (a girl's allowed to have fun, right?), but there's a part of me that wants to experience being in a relationship as a teenager. I'm 18, so I've got 2 more years. (This sounds ridiculous to me; I wonder how it sounds to you...) Sometimes....scratch that...Most of the time, I feel like I'm not attractive to the opposite sex. I look at girls around me, girls my age, and wonder what they have that I don't. Am I intimidating? Am I too big for a girl? Do I look weird? Do I lack a sense of humor? ---Those are some of the things I ask myself. I always seem to look for a fault within me and I always try to convince myself that I'm the problem. But as of today, I'm making an official declaration. I AM BEAUTIFUL. And it's true. I may not have a perfect body, I may not be the prettiest, but no one is perfect. Why should I hurt over being imperfect when perfection is unattainable? The only thing I can do is to love myself and appreciate me for me. I am beautiful in my own special way, and like what Christina Aguilera sang, "words can't bring me down." A friend who is (luckily for me) also my roommate has been helping me with my "problem." One night, we were having a H2H, and she mentioned something along the lines of "If a person can't appreciate you for who you are, they aren't worth your time. They aren't worth your efforts." It's a simple logic, really, but hearing it directed towards me from someone I care about really threw some sense into me. I'm very blessed to be rooming with someone who likes me for me, instead of for what I have, what I can give, or what I look like. 
     Going back to one of my goals in life, another good friend of mine whom I adore said "God is preparing someone special for you, and He is preparing you for that person. When the time is right, He will bring you two together." Right now, God is preparing me. I shouldn't be antsy, but instead entrust everything unto Him because He has plans for me and truly knows what is best. Also, speaking nonreligisously (I don't even know if that's a word, ha!), I'm still 18. I've got lots o'days ahead of me, hopefully! Right now is not the time to worry about this stuff. There's a time for everything, and besides love for family and friends, I've got no time to worry about what the bloody red organ that beats inside of me symbolizes, if you get what I mean. With that, I'll tootle, do. 


-Dianne

Hello again....

Hi there,

It's really been a while since I've posted on here. I'm writing now, even though I really should be studying for my sociology test tomorrow, because I've realized that blogging (even though I feel like I'm still a nubie) is something I miss. I'll make it short----I can have the best of both worlds, you know? ;) But yee, reading my past entries brought back so many memories that I've put in the back of my mind... I know now that I've grown as a person. Those past experiences don't hurt me anymore, and I actually kind of feel silly for hurting before. But I'm human. We're human. We hurt. We cry. We feel. I also believe that our experiences shape who are are and what we're to become, so no matter how much I hurt in the past and no matter how much I will hurt in the future, I should always remember that those feelings--those experiences--serve a much greater purpose: to make me, me--Dianne.
It's 2:06am, and I need to get up at 8:30 for my 9:30 class. I wish I could write more, but I must go. Expect me soon. Writing this made me feel like a little kid whose mouth waters from watching other kids lick their ice cream in the summer sun. Just as the kid desires an ice cream cone of his one, I desire to write, write, write.

Til we meet again,
Dianne