Disclaimer: Don't stop believing! That I do not own Glee!
You do not like to be yourself.
It's kind of pathetic, really. I mean, you are Rachel Berry, the girl with the great voice and the sweet smile; who dreams of starring on Broadway, singing her heart out and her name in lights everywhere… Also known as, the girl who is in love with Finn Hudson; the pathetic psycho who ought to be sterilized. You go by two lives, two wants, two completely different needs. And frankly, it hurts.
Because you see those girls; perfect and thin, so, so beautiful (in a way that she does not understand.) You get these ideas in your head—to be beautiful you must be a size two, ninety-pounds, and blonder than the sun—and it goes against everything you've believed in. People throw juice at you and tear your heart into bits, and all the while, they watch and laugh as though you're the most hilarious side-show at the circus. "We're all in some kind of twisted show!" you want to scream at them, "The world is a stage, and we're all just performing for them! Don't you see?"
Only they don't see, and they refuse to let you help them. They fade away with their petty gossip and hatefulness, and you fade with them, because they are the people who you dream of clapping for you as you belt it out on Broadway, but instead they're giggling and commenting on your Youtube videos like you're some ridiculous idiot who has no chance of making it out there.
But you're not. You're not, you're not, you're not. You will not let them get to you; won't let them ruin you. Whatever it takes—whether it be puking into the toilet or becoming a musical prostitute; making out with some blond jock (while you watch Finn touch Quinn's breast for the first time ((even though you'd let him touch you anywhere, anytime, because you lovelovelove him like Eponine loves Marius))) or joining the celibacy club—you won't let them destroy you.
You don't like to be yourself (because Rachel Berry cannot be the star she's supposed to be someday). But it's all you have sometimes.