When I was a little girl
I worried about being liked.
I cared what people thought,
but not as much as I did
as I grew older.
I went through a phase where
I cared about first impressions,
others evaluations.
what they thought,
what they said, and
what they believed about me.
I thought others thought
more about me then they did.
Now I know others rarely think of me
and if they do,
is not as often I could imagine.
They may have an impression
or an evaluation.
They may tell me what they think,
but that is about them
and what they believe
and what their expectations are.
their story is about them,
not me.
What matters most,
is what I think of me and
that what I think of me
is positive, loving, and affirming.