"Fake" Name My Ass

So today, I was looking at a magazine and I came across an article about black women on the down low. One of the interviewees reminded me of a girl from college. Now we weren't friends by any means. There was a situation that impeded a possible friendship. I believe this article was talking about her, eventhough it said it wasn't her real name. Bull!

There are several clues that lead me to believe that is indeed her; the psychologist and amateur FBI profiler in me says it's her. And frankly, I was pissed. But why was I pissed?

As I looked back on my undergraduate years, I thought about our encounters. I thought about how the first few years, I really did care about fitting in and acting the proper way. I've always been a good girl to the average person, but I've done my share of dirt. However, this particular person used her perception of a situation I was involved in and tried to tarnish my good reputation.

I felt under constant judgement from her and her friends. I did things that I didn't necessarily need to do, just so I could feel justified in previous actions. I know this is kinda vague...but essentially, I cared what this chick thought of me so much, that I did stuff...I guess..in a way to win her approval.

So essentially, I am pissed at myself. Pissed that I gave her that much control in my life. But glad, that I'm a big girl now and can learn from my mistakes and be honest with myself. I am even more committed now to watch what I say to others, about others.