a fashion mistake

Call it being stupid or bold it’s the same thing. In my life being bold is equivalent to being an idiot who can never get enough of being idiotic. While I was a small kid and mind that I was a very innocent one , I wasn’t much concerned about how badly I was dressed up which was all because of my mother and neither of the outrageous type of a being I seemed wearing the combinations she set up for me but as I gradually grew up I began understanding the way I should carry myself as well as the way I should dress up . so, for once and all I decided to back out from the agreement which I don’t even remember when I signed with my mother to dress me up just because she was a mom. I was finally over with it so, I began shopping things I found unique and beautiful but the cost wasn’t a problem, the stalkers were. Whenever I decidsed to wear all my beauties out people would stare at me and comment on my clothes and no wonder I could smell jealousy but I started hating the unwanted attention on such occasions. So, I got merged with my style somewhere in the crowd and wore simple clothes which wasn’t my style at all. I began wondering if I should buy a pretty dress. That’s when it hit me. Straight in the face for once and for all. I was totally bewildered. The realisation took place so late that I was running out of things to be worn. But then i blame some huge part of the underconfidence to my sister. She’s not a shopaholic and neither a utterly fancy girl but she made me caouncious of what I wore. Before her pointing out to me about my clothes and how short they were or how improper I looked I used to be so happy. So wonderful and confident. Like I didn’t cared about any comments. Like I just cared for what I found pretty. I used to be so me. I never took my mum seriously, whenever she used to say that all the time you have is now to wear everything in your childhood . I wish I would have never disagreed to that statement because no matter how much I deny it, it’s true. I am not the same girl anymore who wears what she wants. Before even picking out a dress for any place I have to think about the people and their reactions and on a scale of ten to hundred how odd am I going to look. If you want to live my experience then imagine yourself coming to a party dressed in all black with a dress code of white. All eyes will be on you, won’t they? An as I am writing this I feel more and more sad. I need help. Everytime I see those models and girls in movies I feel like crying because I am stuck in the middle of nowhere because I know that I can’t get out of this problem but at the same time I don’t want it at all. Help me.all I just do now is to wait for parties to come for an occasion to dress.isn’t it frustrating?