Assistant manager- [M.S]

25

June 15.

I never needed anyone else's approval.

I mean, the occasional pat on the back and the
'You're doing really well' was always nice, but I didn't need it.

I was always strong enough to hold my head high, and I was able to find approval in myself.

For example: Get an A on a test? Great job, Alyssa. You really studied hard for that one.
Passed your drivers test first try? You practiced in that parking lot for hours. Won the championship game for lacrosse? Your hands froze while you practiced endlessly throughout the winter, you really deserved that one.

See?

The only person I need to prove anything to is myself, because at the end of the day, I'm all that I've got. When I close my eyes at night and wake up in the morning, I'm still Alyssa Wilkins. I'm stuck with the same me, all I need is myself.

And if that's the case, then why the fuck am I here seeking approval from Matthew Sturniolo?

I wore a dress one time this tour, and I even wore a goddamn suit. But here I fucking am, in this small ass bathroom in St. Louis, braiding my hair for Matt while I wear a pink skirt and a crop top. What the hell am I doing?

I did this once for a boy in the eighth grade.

There was this guy I liked named Chase, and now that I think about it, he was a fucking weirdo.

All the girls he liked were so preppy, which was weird because we went to a nasty public school, but he managed to make a selection from the girls there. They were all the perfect polished girls who wore dresses to school every day, and I mean a new dress every day.

It was so low of me, but I wanted validation, I guess. So, I begged my dad to buy me a new dress for school, and what do you know? I wore it the next day, and it caught his eye.

After weeks of trying to get him to talk to me, all it took was a dress. And I was fucking miserable in it. He started going on and on about me, and then I realized he only gave a shit what I looked like, so if I wore a nice outfit, I'd have his attention, but if I wanted to dress for me, he couldn't care less.

He was spewing compliments out left and right, but I couldn't hear a word he was saying. All I heard was this little voice in my head screaming
'He's full of shit. Punch him in the dick.'
So, yeah. No more of that.

But I can't help myself today.

But to be fair, it gave me a confidence boost before, so maybe that'll do the trick today.
I'm rewearing the outfit from New York that I wore to get brunch with Chris  - scratch that.
Yes, I wore it when we got brunch, but I did not wear that outfit for him. I wore it for myself.
Luckily this outfit is comfortable.

We got in to St. Louis in the middle of the night, as usual. That's the only sucky thing about having to check-in to all these hotels, you can never do it in the middle of the day because it's going to be packed with fans waiting outside, so if we do it in the middle of the night, it's not a hassle to get to our rooms.

We'll be here for a few days, just like almost every other stop, but we only have one show here.

I finished up on the braids, using the technique that Eve showed me to create two simple braids that fall overtop my long strands on the sides of my head. It's a very subtle look, or maybe I'm just trying to convince myself that it is so I don't feel as ridiculous right now.

Once I'm happy with my appearance, I grabbed my things to leave my room.

My mom had been patiently waiting outside my door to walk to the lobby with me, and she even took note of my outfit today, teasing me by saying, 'You dressing up for someone?'