I'm Not the "Cool Girl"

I admit it; I’m not the “cool girl”.

On the day I turned 34, as I quietly watched the sun set behind the Pacific Ocean with a handful of my closest friends, I had this epiphany. I’ve tried, countless times, to be cool, to not let things get to me. And I failed almost every time. In my life, above all else, I care. Things and people matter – a lot – to me. I wear my emotions on my sleeve. I cry. I get super excited about things, sometimes to the annoyance of my friends. If something bothers me, I talk about it ad nauseum to try and figure it out.

Sometimes I wish I was cool. I wish I could hold people in the palm of my hand, command a room, and be beautiful, witty, charming and approachable all at the same time. But that, for me, is exhausting. That’s not who I am. I’m awkward and silly, and cute at best. I’m more down-to-earth than your average Los Angelino, more than your average actress. I enjoy getting down and dirty. I don’t fit in at fancy restaurants or clubs where the women squeeze themselves into tight dresses that create assets where they might not have them. Not to say I don’t like to get dressed up every once and a while, but just be aware that I might make ridiculous faces while doing so.

I’m adventurous and nerdy. Shy but I love to be on stage or in front of a camera. I’m all over the place, but 100% goal-driven. I recently got a tattoo, not because I’m cool, but because I’m sentimental. I realize that I fall very quickly and very deeply in love. I jump in with both feet, most of the time to the detriment of my heart. I’m somewhat used to it being broken. As realistic as I might seem, and I sometimes hate to admit this, I’m an optimist. I like to see the best in people. I like to give multiple chances, even if it’s not in my best interest. But it’s OK. I love to feel. I love to ride this rollercoaster of emotions, to see all the colors that life has to offer, the ups and the downs.

There are always things to strive for, to better about myself. And I do sometimes circle the drain about what could’ve been, or how things “should” be. But I’m trying to enjoy the journey right now. I’m trying not to TRY so hard, but to accept the things about myself that are inherently ME. It may have taken me 34 years to figure it out, but I’m starting to realize who I am and be at peace with that. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.