One Direction Preferences and Imagines

Imagine - Just the way you are (requested)

So this request went to the top of my list and I wrote it before all my pending request.  The reason for this is because an anon requested this on tumblr for her friend in hopes that it would cheer her up.  This friend has been feeling insecure about her skin color and her height and it really bugged me to hear that.  This friend is Indian and dutch and she is 5" 2.

I would like to share with all of you that I am Canadian but my mother is French Canadian and my dad was born in India, and I'm 5" 2.  It's such an issue that people today, especially teens are feeling insecure about things they cannot control.  Skin is just a color and height is just a number, it doesn't say anything about you.

The people who love you would still love you if you were purple or 11ft tall and that's all that matters.  Everyone else can go to hell because they aren't the important people in your life.

Love yourself because you will only and ever be you.

I was asked to put a name with this but I'm making the creative decision not to and I'm also not specifying any boy so pick your own.  This is for you, whoever you may be.

Enjoy x

The street lights are blurry overhead and you can hardly read the street names through your tears, but you don't care.  It doesn't matter where you are going, it won't matter to anyone else either.  It shouldn't matter to anyone because you don't matter.

The words, the hurtful and painful words play over again in your head.  As much as you told yourself that words don't hurt, they do.  Hearing their echoes in your mind meant you couldn't escape them and then tears kept flowing, jab and after jab being felt in your heart as you recalled what they had said.

They had pushed you to tears within minutes and now you were wondering along the street on your own.  He told you that they bullied you because they were jealous that you were together, but the reason didn't matter anymore.  Everything they said, you started to believe it.  It was hard to ignore the hate, the way they picked apart your appearance, ragging on your color, your height, your weight, your name, even your voice.  You began to hate yourself as much as they did.

You had no idea what time it was because your phone was dead.  It felt late and the streets were quiet, only filled with your soft sobs.  You chest ached and you fought for breaths.  Your eyes were sore and stinging from the tears, your feet aching from walking so far.  You didn't know where you were and at this point you didn't care.

Eventually you grow tired and sit on a curb, burying your face in your knees, letting the tears dry and leave behind poisoned thoughts.  You hated that there were things about you that people didn't like.  Why couldn't you be prettier or taller or shorter, whatever would make them stop.  There were was you could change yourself, but of course they weren't recommended. 

You wished you were someone else, you wished you weren't you even for just a day.  You wanted to know what it would be like living outside your skin that you were so suddenly uncomfortable in.

"Babe!"

You lift your head as soon as you hear the familiar voice, you heart stopping when you see him climbing out of his car and rushing over to you.  You look away from him, feeling ashamed that you wouldn't be more for him.  He deserved more.  He deserved someone beautiful, someone funny and gentle and everything you were not.

"Baby, I've been looking all over the city for you.  What's going on?  Where have you been? I -" he starts in a panic, but he stops when he is stood in front of you and takes in your appearance and tear stained cheeks.  "What's wrong? What's happened?"