It was Wednesday night, less than twelve hours before the first day of my senior year. I gathered my school supplies and prepared myself for the official ending of my freedom. I set my alarm for 6 a.m., hours earlier than I’d been up since May. I hadn’t laid out my outfit for the next day, taken off my makeup or even shaved my legs, admittedly, before heading off to bed regardless.

For the last three years of my high school career, the first day of school has been a momentous occasion. After a whole 12 weeks apart from my peers, my first priority has always been to look as good as possible — my outfit is picked out weeks in advance and I’m careful to make sure my hair and makeup are on point. This year, however, senioritis has truly kicked in in every single sense. Not only did my AP Literature & Composition summer assignment remain undone, but so did every methodical step of my usual first-day preparation.

This may be the most redundant, cliche thing I’ve ever said in my life, but it could not be more relevant to me at the moment. This summer consisted of what I would consider some of the most trying times of my 17 years on this planet. After struggling with heartbreaks, self esteem and remaining positive, I’ve come to the conclusion that no person, amount of compliments, magazine article, makeup product or number of likes on a selfie can make someone feel beautiful. It is solely an internal decision that can come when your brows are on fleek or when you’re makeup-less, sweatpants clad and rocking unshaven legs.

It’s sad that it took me until I was 75 percent of the way done with high school to realize this, but now that I have roughly nine months left with my classmates, I realized that I value their opinions less than banks value Chuck E. Cheese tokens. I don’t get why freshman, sophomore and especially junior Adri (or anyone else for that matter) would be concerned with the opinions of high schoolers. These people I’ve sought so hard to impress are the same horribly-mistaken people who wear basketball socks with boat shoes, put liquid eyeliner on their bottom lash line and  wear Birkenstocks unironically as an actual fashion statement.

It could just be the kind of not caring that comes along with senior year, but I fully intend to spend my last months in high school wearing my makeup, dressing, acting, carrying myself and writing my weekly beauty blog exactly as I please.

Senior Adri Talavera is a makeup-addicted, self-proclaimed beauty guru who can most often be found browsing the aisles of Sephora or working eyebrow miracles. This is her third year writing Beauty Boss, and she is excited to continue to share her passion for makeup for one last year.