By Maya Freedman

I’m trying so hard to be perfect
I spent hours doing my hair
But there must be something wrong with me
cause all they do is stare.

The mirror is my enemy
It shows me all my flaws
Ugly, fat, monster, hideous
I get it, I’m a lost cause.

They’re all telling me I’m not perfect
I hear them whispering in the halls
That shirt is ridiculous, her makeup’s a mess
They taunt me with their calls.

I’ve been trying so hard to fit in
and do everything like they do
But I’m not as popular, skinny or beautiful
To finally join their “crew”.

They all tell me how to get perfect
All the models on TV
Just take this pill, just try this thing
And you’ll be just as skinny as me.

Everywhere I look they’re telling me
To drop 80 pounds of fat
Just don’t eat breakfast, or any meal
It’s just as easy as that!

But why do I want to be perfect?
I’ve never thought of that before
All I ever wanted was to fit in
And not be someone to simply ignore.

I wanted to join the group
To be able to laugh when they do
Then they’ll stop all their hate and their violence
And I’ll be one of them too!

But so what if I’m not perfect
Do I really have to be?
Do I have to be starving, ruthless and rude
Just to get them to like me .

So what if I’m not friends with them
If I’m not part of their group
I shouldn’t have to change myself
Just to get in the inner loop.

I don’t want to be perfect
Because perfect isn’t me
I got caught up trying to be someone else
And now I finally see,

That perfect is a stereotype
We’re all perfect from the start
And you don’t have to be skinny or popular
It’s about being yourself at heart.