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I Am A Basic Teenage Girl

Today I want to introduce you to one of our students. Her name is Allie and she is a bright light in the world. 

She came to me recently and asked if she could share a blog with me, while also wondering if it could be featured here. 

I read the blog and though it is specific to a certain perspective it is widely actionable for many. 

We spend so much time as people, thinking of what others may think. So often so that we don’t really live the life we dreamt, only a small piece of it or none at all. 

We let life happen, instead of choosing the thing that suits us. We let others thoughts and opinions decide a future we don’t want in exchange for our feeling a rejection free life. 

Let this inspire you today. 

Let us know what you think! 


Zack Schuyler 

VP of Student Experience FMG 

I am the definition of a basic teenage girl.

I love doing my makeup, shopping for clothes, the color pink (I'm wearing a pink shirt right now and my best friend keeps calling me Barbie), glitter and sparkles, gossiping about the school drama, Taylor Swift, and just the whole aura of being a girly girl.

But, despite everything you see in the media about being a girly girl, they tend to forget that it isn't just glitter and sparkles.

The truth is, being human, especially a teenage girl, means always hiding your true emotions that society sees as “ugly” or “dramatic”. It means hating your body because it doesn't “fit” society's standards. It means trying your hardest to fit in and somehow still never achieving it. We always find a way to find something wrong with ourselves.

I often catch myself right before I go to sleep thinking to myself, “why did I say that?” or “why did I look like that?” I wonder if my friends notice all the flaws that I notice in myself. Everyone tells me that they don't, but there's always a voice in the back of my head telling me that they’re lying. I am good at hiding my difficult emotions in front of others, because I know that if I do, there's a chance people will really see all the flaws I see in myself.

Thats something us teenage girls are good at; hiding. We’ve gotten so used to the idea of hiding who we truly are that it has become “normal” now for a girl to spend 2 hours on her makeup or to look at other girls who seem perfect and become jealous. However, I can personally guarantee that these “perfect” girls are exactly like you and are having the exact same thoughts when they go to bed at night.

I have never been to the pool and seen a body so different, good or bad, that I remember it the next day. I have never looked at a girl and wonder if her jeans were a smaller size the year before. Yet, somehow, I still tell myself that other people are thinking those exact things about me.

It’s messed up that when I tell people this, almost everyone says that they relate to it.

In 8th grade, I took a musical theater class. It is by far my favorite class I’ve taken, and I learned a lot from it; not just about theater, but about myself. But there was one moment during the year that stuck with me significantly for the rest of my life.

We had a professional theater teacher come in for the day and teach us how to do more improv work. Some of the exercises he made us do were awkward and embarrassing, so many of us were timid at first and not putting all our effort into it. But then, the teacher gave us some advice that I still remember and cherish to this day.

“This is going to sound rude at first, but I want you to hear me out. Nobody cares about you as much as you think they do”

He was right. When you first hear it, it sounds rude. Like nobody cares about you or what you think. If not thought about, it could have the opposite effect on someone. But when you really think about it, I find this advice weirdly comforting.

I tend to always focus on what I did wrong. This has been something I’ve always struggled with since I was a kid, and I will admit I still struggle with it to this day. But, knowing that other people don't constantly focus on what I did wrong and even if they did notice, they don't care nearly as much as I do, brings me so much comfort and takes a huge weight off my shoulders. Like, I don't have to be perfect for someone to be proud of me.

Keeping this in mind, it allowed me to be more expressive with myself and gain a tremendous amount of confidence. I grew to be more outgoing and not afraid to voice my own opinions. Slowly, I started to muffle out the voice in my head that reminds me of all the stuff I’ve done wrong. I was able to turn my mistakes into opportunities and not just view them as something to be ashamed about.

I’m obviously not saying that I have lost that evil voice. It still lives in my mind rent free every day. But I do know that I learned how to fight it. I learned its weaknesses and used them to my advantage. I gained the proper weapons to attack it head on, and finally win. Even though it is still there, growing and shrinking by the day, I know it is a lot weaker than it was before.

Confidence is a crazy idea that is so hard to “get right”. People say, “have confidence, people will like you more. Oh, but don't be too confident or else people will think you’re being cocky. But you still must have confidence so people will notice you”. The line that has been drawn to measure someone else’s personality is so jagged and uneven that it impossible to “get it right”.

People love confidence, but when someone has “too much” they go back on their word and tell them to tone it down. So, so many just avoid that by not having confidence at all. This all relates back to my favorite advice, nobody really cares.

No one should stop you from being the best, happiest version of yourself.

I am a basic, teenage girl.

I love makeup and shopping and Taylor Swift.

But I also have deep and strong emotions that tend to try to water me down and make me feel ashamed to be myself. I can get lost in my thoughts, good or bad, and overthink to an extent. My mind races forever about who I am and what I’ve done. But as I’ve grown, I’ve become more myself and happier than I ever thought I could be. When my mind is messing with my head again, I now know to think about that one time in eighth grade when I was told;

Nobody. Really. Cares.

-Allie Harder

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