I know I'm very anti-drinking, anti-partying, anti-anything that would make me look bad.
But don't get me wrong.
I was sitting in the car with my boyfriend a few months ago and said I felt like I wanted to go to a party and try drinking. "Just once!" I said. I was sick of feeling like a goody-two-shoes and was sick of people saying I wasn't living and that I was missing out. But more than anything, I think I wanted it for myself. Then my boyfriend reminded me how much I would hate myself if I did. All because I'm so disgusted by everyone else who does it, even though I've never seen it in the flesh.
I have to admit it. Every once in a while there's times when I feel like branching out. Just trying something. But in the end, it's never worth it. I mean, I'll be 21 this year and it still hasn't been worth it. Will it ever be worth it? It's hard to tell, but if I really want to try I don't have much longer to wait. I don't mind not being a rebel; I don't mind being cautious. How else do you think I've made it 20 years without so much as a bruise?
There may be times when I feel sick of being a goody-two-shoes. But then I remember that's what I pride myself on. And I realize that the fleeting moment of wanting to do something wild will pass, and in the moment it's simply not worth it. It's just another day.
photo via (we heart it)