I'm Pretty

The other night, I was laying in bed thinking, then this popped into my head: About 75% of the time someone compliments me, they say that I'm pretty. Once for marching band, someone wrote a compliment for each person in the band, and mine was that I was pretty. This guy I have a stupid little crush will occasionally tell me to get over my last boyfriend and find a new guy, and that I'm too pretty for my ex. I'm pretty, apparently. But that seems to be the only compliment I get sometimes. And does it really matter whether I'm pretty? I just want to be loved for who I am, but to be honest, I don't really like who I am. I'm whiny, I'm annoying, I always have to be the center of attention when I'm with my friends, but when I'm not with my friends I'm amazingly shy. I stutter a lot. I just wish I were something besides "pretty," you know? I want something I can really be proud of. I'm an artist, but there's always someone better. I love singing, but there are so many people with more talent. I'm not even that pretty, compared to my friends. But the other night I spent nearly an hour sobbing uncontrollably because I don't really know who I am, what I am, besides some pretty, skinny girl.

When I woke up the next morning, I thought I'd overeacted about the whole thing.