These story is for the person who pretends to be someone or change thete self just to liked by other.
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Maya Parker stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, twisting the hem of her shirt nervously. The party downstairs was already in full swing. Music thumped through the walls, laughter spilling into the hallway, and Maya could feel the weight of a hundred pairs of eyes she’d never meet staring at her anyway.
She took a deep breath. Tonight was supposed to be fun. A chance to be herself. But somehow, being herself felt like a problem.
Not that anyone had told her that directly. No one had said, *“You’re too quiet, too serious, too different.”* But Maya felt it. She felt it in the way her friends laughed at jokes she didn’t understand, in the way people exchanged glances she couldn’t read, in the small invitations she never received because she wasn’t “fun enough.”
So she tried.
She put on a dress that wasn’t her style, forced a smile she didn’t feel, laughed a little too loudly at jokes she didn’t think were funny. Maya changed herself, layer by layer, until she didn’t even recognize the reflection in the mirror.
“Do you really need to do all that?”
Maya jumped. Behind her was her older cousin, Lila, leaning casually against the doorframe. She didn’t judge. She didn’t laugh. She just watched Maya with that knowing look only family could give.
“I… I just… I want people to like me,” Maya confessed quietly, barely able to meet Lila’s gaze.
Lila stepped closer, placing a hand gently on Maya’s shoulder. “Honey, the right people will like you exactly as you are. You don’t need to bend, change, or hide to make someone care.”
Maya wanted to argue. She wanted to say, *“But what if they don’t?”* She had spent years convincing herself that being herself wasn’t enough. That being quiet, thoughtful, or awkward was a flaw, a thing to fix, a thing to hide.
Lila shook her head softly. “Trust me, Maya. The ones worth your time will love the real you. Not this… this imitation.”
At the party, Maya tried something different. She left the dress hanging in her room, changed into jeans and a sweater that felt like her. She pulled her hair back in a messy ponytail and walked into the crowd without forcing a fake smile.
At first, it was terrifying. People glanced at her, and yes, some whispered. But something strange happened. She laughed naturally at a joke someone actually told, she spoke up when she had something to say, and she didn’t apologize for taking up space.
Slowly, she felt lighter.
It wasn’t instant. Not everyone liked her. That was okay. She realized she didn’t need everyone to like her. She only needed people who saw her, really saw her, and valued her without asking her to change.
By the end of the night, Maya found herself talking to a group she’d never joined before. They didn’t notice her awkward pauses. They didn’t care that she didn’t dance well. They just listened, laughed, and shared stories. And Maya? She laughed too, genuinely, without thinking she had to perform happiness.
The next few weeks were a revelation. Maya stopped trying to be someone else on social media. She posted the photos she liked, shared her thoughts, even the awkward ones, and she noticed something incredible people responded to her honesty. Real friends, the kind who stayed, appeared naturally. People who mattered didn’t need her to pretend.
It was freeing.
One afternoon, sitting at her favorite coffee shop, Maya reflected on how much energy she had wasted. Pretending, performing, trying to fit molds that weren’t made for her. She thought about Lila’s words, and they felt truer than ever: *“The right people will like you exactly as you are.”*
Maya realized she didn’t need to earn love, validation, or approval from anyone. She just needed to be herself and the world could take it or leave it.
Weeks later, a message popped up on her phone. It was from someone she’d met at that party.
“Hey Maya, you coming to the hiking trip this weekend?”
Her first instinct was to doubt herself. *They might not like me. I’m too quiet. Too awkward.*
Then she remembered the nights she spent pretending, the masks she wore, and how freeing it felt to let them fall. She typed back without hesitation:
“I’m in. See you there.”
Because she didn’t need to change. She never had. And now, finally, she didn’t want to.
Remember: You don’t need to change yourself to be liked. The right people will love you just as you are.