This girl... Is me.

She sits on her bed, legs crossed, her shoulders back, breathing deeply, and three tears run down her cheeks as she tries to clear her head, and rid her mind and body of all that's stressing her. Instead, she ends up thinking about all the people who support her. Spencer. AnnMarie and  Ann's dad. Kecia. Paige. Kayla. The school nurse. Her aunt. Her grandparents. Oma. Fred. Grandma Mo. And, she realizes, as she's sitting on her bed with those tears rolling down her cheeks, dripping off her chin and into her lap, that even though her Dad doesn't support her, there are so many people that do. And she's left wondering why it's such a big deal that one person doesn't. The easiest answer would be that it's her dad. Shouldn't she care what he thinks of her and what she does? She thinks and thinks. And, comes to realize this:

 Just because her dad doesn't approve of the boy she loves, and doesn't give her writing, her style of fashion, her art, and her life, and her dreams any recognition, doesn't mean she should get all wrapped up in those things. What's the point of that? There isn't she decides. She has a  wonderful future ahead of her. She has love. And, soon, in a bit of time, her wedding, then her own family. A husband who loves her. And cares about her. And two healthy kids who she'll love almost as much as her husband-to-be. And, with all that in front of her, why the fuck should she care about what one person thinks? Particularly when that person means nothing to her?