If there are two stories that, at its core, convey the same or similar ideas, then it might not matter which one you choose to believe. Nevertheless, your two options might come down to these: the story that makes the most sense based on what you and/or others believe, or the story that makes you and/or others think outside the box in one way or another, possibly the more creative story. I’ve learned to choose the latter and to strive to always choose your better story.

Soon after I started middle school, my confidence and self esteem started slowly declining. Without really knowing, I constantly talked down on myself. Any small mistake I made, I twisted into something bigger and used it against myself. I told myself that I wasn’t good enough for anything. I was constantly afraid of how people would judge me if I said this or did that. Yet everything I said or did was judged not by others, but by me.

Because I wasn’t confident in myself, I tried to change into someone else who I could be more confident in. I created a mask out of my own self hatred that I could hide behind. A mask that was, at its core, me, but at the same time, it wasn’t me. It wasn’t my better story, but instead, the story that I thought made the most sense not only to others, but to myself.

All this time, I never really noticed that anything was wrong or out of the ordinary. It was like breathing to me, where I’ll only notice every so often, but after that, I’ll go right back to forgetting it's even happening.

My freshman year of high school was my lowest point. Now, it wasn’t just me saying that I wasn’t good enough or over emphasizing small mistakes, it was others. I was yelled at and judged for every mistake I made, while everything I did correctly went almost unnoticed. There were multiple nights where I was on the verge of tears. My self esteem was at an all time low, and I wasn’t sure if I could bring it back.

I finally started to realize that this wasn’t a normal thing. Once I came to that realization, I was able to cut out what was making me feel so terrible.

Enter sophomore year.

Obviously, nothing went away overnight. At the start of the year, my self esteem was still low, but it was starting to rise. I found a program that allowed me to express my creativity, and essentially, the side of myself that I had hidden behind the mask. I found people that lifted my spirits and helped me even when they didn’t know it. I was able to choose my better story and slowly dissolve the mask I made.

My actual mask reflects that. Most of the mask is colorful and bright, which represents me and my better story. On the left side, there is some darkness, the other story, that is cracking, revealing the colors.