The other girl

I’m not the girl that pretends like clothing that I don’t understand is groundbreaking for the sake of “progressive” fashion.

I’m not the girl that pretends like the Twitter topic of the day isn’t highly offensive (whether it’s due to racism, sexism, or any of the other multifarious ways that people find to be highly offensive).

I’m not the girl that makes up rules about how much time needs to be spent with someone before you decide to have sex with them, begin a relationship with them, love them, etc.

I’m not the girl who straddles the fence in hopes that having wavering views will make me appear more open-minded and attractive to the public.

I’m not the girl asking what club everyone’s hitting this weekend.

I’m not the girl bashing the girl that’s asking what club everyone’s hitting this weekend.

I’m not the girl seeking self in someone else.

I’m not the girl whose end-game is marriage and a couple kids.

I’m not the girl competing with people whose journeys differ greatly from my own.

I’m not the girl that never gets lonely.

I’m not the girl that’s proud of every decision I’ve made.

I’m not the girl that lacks practicality in an effort to appear less strangled by life.

I’m the young millennial girl that thinks most of the institutions that we’ve been socialized into believing in are exceedingly dated, and I’m not the only one.