This is my senior column. The opinionated, self-centered narration I’m required to write as a final assignment where I tell you all about how terrible my high school experience was or how much I’ve learned over the past four years, and expect you to take my advice. I’m going to try not to do that, but these things always end up going in that direction anyways. Will it be self-centered? Yeah, absolutely. But I could sit here for five-hundred more words and explain the ups and downs of adolescence as I embark on this new chapter of my life but I’m not trying to tuck you into bed, so sit up and listen to this one thing.

You just shouldn’t care. About a lot of things. You shouldn’t care about status, followers, your fake friends and their fake friends, but especially what other people think of you. Let me give you some examples:

When I was in 8th grade, I was a minion for Halloween completely unironically. To this day, I stand by that with my whole being. Since then, I’ve been Veronica from the movie “Heathers” and that viner Josh Kennedy, amongst other things.

When I was a sophomore, I started going to school events with a camera and shooting for this publication, shamelessly introducing myself to strangers and begging for five minutes to interview them and their friends about a story nobody asked me to write. This year alone I won five awards for those awkward angles I captured at an event you wouldn’t even think would be remotely interesting to cover.

When I was a junior, I started wearing acrylic nails, mostly in the color black, which I was then told, “made me too intimidating” when mixed in with my brutally honest personality and resting you-know-what face.

Senior year, I came to the conclusion that I am the only person I would ever want to be. I’ve never been a jealous person, and there really isn’t much about myself that I don’t like. I’m not perfect obviously, but I really, really like myself. Definitely a narcissist, but again, that’s just a part of me, and would I change it? Probably not. I stand by the decisions I make, I’m confident in the friendships and relationships I have, I know what I want and how I want it done, and I like to think that I have at least some of my life together. High school was a pain, I’m sure most of my fellow students can attest to that. But when you put into perspective the last chunk of my life and pin in into my high school “experience” I guess you could say, (I definitely lied in the beginning when I said I wasn’t going to make this cheesy), I became myself by truly not caring. I mean, care about staying in school and all that good stuff, but listen to all of those parents, mentors, guest speakers, and other seemingly out-of-touch-adults that tell you to “be yourself because everyone else is taken,” because they’re right. Ok ew, sorry it got that deep, it’s not that deep, just be more carefree in high school, it’s way better than worrying that that cute boy in your calc class won’t like your hair today, or that your one popular friend will ditch you if you don’t do exactly what she wants this weekend. You are your own person — don’t let that person get lost in the hot mess that is high school.

But all seriousness aside, if you take anything away from this article, anything at all, let it be this:

Try thrifting at least once. If my legacy doesn’t remain in my photos, or how intimidating I was, let it lie in those $1.58 checkered pants I got from the Salvation Army.