awkwardly significant.

Growing up, most of us encounter what is referred to as "the awkward stage." I think I can say I have been in the awkward stage for most of my life.

I was 12. Stuck between child and teenager, I had no real identity. As a child I had been relatively happy and fit in with my peers. At a young age, we were all able to relate through watching the same Saturday morning cartoons and wearing the same Velcro shoes before progressing on to light-up sneakers. But by the time fifth and sixth grade rolled around, things were different. For some of my classmates, generic Payless brand shoes were replaced by Nike Air Force Ones. Clothes from the children's department were exchanged for Baby Phat and Ecko. It became obvious who the "cool kids" were.

At first, I didn't care. But slowly, the want to be accepted began to surface. I feared being judged and laughed at for being awkward and different. I wanted to be accepted. I found myself listening to music I didn't even really like. I attended the Valentine's Day dance, only to stand in the corner because I was too intimidated to dance.

In eighth grade I decided I didn't need the approval of anybody. My invisibility would no longer be ascribed. It would be a choice. If people liked me for who I was, fine. But I would no longer try to be who I wasn't just so I could win approval from others. I began to listen to music I actually liked, and vowed I would never again waste my time at something as silly as a school dance.

Even as I went through this "rebellious" phase, I still wasn't fully happy with myself. My new attitude didn't really get me anywhere. When my friends would dance at parties, I would sit in the corner alone, convinced rap was stupid. Still, I noticed they were opening up and enjoying themselves. They had outgrown the awkward stage- but I was still trapped in it.

By junior year I realized I had only been alienating myself. So, I gave in. That year was my best year of high school: I made more friends than ever, and even danced at the junior prom. I even became friends with some of the people I had assumed considered themselves "too cool" to associate themselves with people outside their clique.

While the gawky 12-year-old inside me surfaces from time to time, I remind myself that I am so much happier now that I'm not always letting my insecurities preventing me from going out and experiencing life. I will hold back at times, but I am definitely not as big of a wallflower as I used to be. I am not the best dancer, but I still enjoy going to the clubs with my friends every once in a while. I may not be the coolest or the most eloquent girl in the room, but I have finally learned to be happy with who I am, awkward or not.