Walking through those doors on the first day of school was remarkably thrilling; little did I know that my life was about to change forever. I could sense some tension, but for the most part, I apprehended that everyone was amazing and perfect. Everyone was so kind to me, but that was before I realized that there was a difference between being kindhearted and being fake. In my first year, I was straining trying to fitting in. It was overwhelming and undoubtedly debilitating. Most people at that school were exceedingly wealthy and had heaps of spending money; however, I did not have money that I could spend all the time with most people. I also knew I was not as pretty as most people. The girl's hair and eyes made every boy like them, along
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I knew this wasn't myself, but being put under the social pressure I felt like I was compelled be just like them. I started wearing additional makeup, contemplating about what others care of me as if it actually matters. My family knew something was up, but decided not to say anything. No one knew how much I was hurting inside; because I put on such a fake act. I wasn't turning into them anymore, I was them. I had lost myself, God, and eventually my best friends. I had no one, but I blamed the social pressure of my school and my fake friends. Then eighth grade came, I was already as fake as a doll. I had my head so high and I absorbed anything anyone told me, negative or positive. But still, who did I blame? My school and friends. I knew they changed me the way they wanted me to be and I let them do it. The social status had taken over me and it was my classmate's fault.They ruined me. Finally, At the end of middle school, I finally admitted to myself I was fazed, I perceived that I was better than everyone and everything. I had no idea that I could transform from so innocent to bouncing off the walls in that short of time. I was at the top of my own world, not God. I needed to change, but I chose not to because no one else was changing. I had a choice between eternal life or fake friends; I chose fake friends. Now looking back, I know
I knew this wasn't myself, but being put under the social pressure I felt like I was compelled be just like them. I started wearing additional makeup, contemplating about what others care of me as if it actually matters. My family knew something was up, but decided not to say anything. No one knew how much I was hurting inside; because I put on such a fake act. I wasn't turning into them anymore, I was them. I had lost myself, God, and eventually my best friends. I had no one, but I blamed the social pressure of my school and my fake friends. Then eighth grade came, I was already as fake as a doll. I had my head so high and I absorbed anything anyone told me, negative or positive. But still, who did I blame? My school and friends. I knew they changed me the way they wanted me to be and I let them do it. The social status had taken over me and it was my classmate's fault.They ruined me. Finally, At the end of middle school, I finally admitted to myself I was fazed, I perceived that I was better than everyone and everything. I had no idea that I could transform from so innocent to bouncing off the walls in that short of time. I was at the top of my own world, not God. I needed to change, but I chose not to because no one else was changing. I had a choice between eternal life or fake friends; I chose fake friends. Now looking back, I know