As a child, I often played dress-up. It was an outlet for my imagination. From princess to spy to safari explorer, I could become anything I wanted to be. My mom would let me prance around the house or supermarket in these costumes. But not all outfits from my childhood were pleasant. I remember attempting to wrestle away from my mom as she tried to dress me. Scratchy lace collars itched for hours on Picture Day, and tears welled up in my eyes when I was forced into a pair of velvet pants with straps to keep them from inching up my legs.

Throughout elementary school I was that girl who dressed up for the first day. You know the one. I would say, “My mom made me wear this,” but I wore what I did to make a good first impression. When I look back at my outfits over the years, I sometimes cringe and wonder why my mom let me leave the house in an all-pink sweatsuit, but I also want to thank her for giving me the creative license back then that helped prepare me for middle school.

In middle school, I discovered that people were defined by what they wore. Everyone donned the same outfits from the same stores, just in different colors. Hollister, American Eagle, Aéropostale, and Abercrombie and Fitch were plastered on every shirt that walked the halls. Of course, no outfit was complete without Ugg boots, and knockoffs were scoffed at.

I didn't wear the “in-style” name brands, a fashion decision I can thank my sister for. I looked to her for advice, and she always said, “Buy the clothes you like, not what someone else likes.” I did not want what everyone else was wearing. The clothes all seemed the same; nothing was unique about them. However, when you're 12, it's hard to deviate from the norm.

On the first day of sixth grade, my sister picked out an outfit for me, and I loved it. I was worried that everyone would think it was weird or not in-style, but during lunch, a girl I didn't know came up to me and said, “Your outfit is so cute. I love it!” It's funny how a few words can have such an impact. Having one person say something positive made me realize that I shouldn't try to be someone I'm not just to fit in. Other people didn't need to like what I was wearing – only I did.

In middle school, I noticed people tried to suppress who they really were and do what ­everyone else was doing. In eighth grade, I was one of five people to dress up for Halloween in a class of three hundred. Everyone else thought it was a “little kid” holiday. I got some looks throughout the day, but I had dressed up every other year and I thought, Why let other people make me break my tradition? I'm proud that I managed to stay confident in my choice to be myself.

When high school began, I noticed that more people started to break out of the mold. Most of my friends jokingly refer to middle school fashion as “a dark time that needs to be forgotten.” I don't agree, because I wore the clothes I liked and didn't worry about what was considered “in.” Most of my friends would never wear the outfits they wore back in middle school, whereas my current favorite is from seventh grade.

Now that we finally hit high school, an event I had been waiting years for was finally here – Spirit Week. I got to channel my inner four-year-old and rediscover dressing up. On the first day of this wonderful week, many freshmen purposefully didn't dress up because they thought they were going to be ridiculed. Even as the week went on, it was clear my grade was lacking. I heard a few upperclassmen saying we didn't have any school spirit, but I think it was courage that we were missing. Although my class may have been subpar that week, people came up to me and said, “You win at Spirit Week” or “Can't wait to see what you wear tomorrow.” I took these comments as complimenting not just my clothes but me for standing out.

As my peers and I grow together, I notice more people are developing their own style and finally accepting that we have different tastes and opinions, not just in clothing but about everything in life.