It’s been about two years since I’ve started this blog. It started as a hobby I took up while unemployed and in an instant I was welcomed into a new scene, filled with quite a few stylish kiddos + super cool events that made me aspire to be better. Essentially, that was the whole point of it all. To be better. A better me. Nothing too drastic, just to uncover hidden or tucked away areas of myself that when brought to light would make me feel better.
I, just like many, have my insecurities. These insecurities run a good chunk of my young life. In the past, I considered myself too ugly. Too skinny. Too short. Too this. Too that. Too much of things that were all just superficial–my body receiving the majority of my intense hatred. But, at the time, the superficial stuff mattered to me. For whatever reason, it mattered. All I ever wanted to be was not myself. I wanted to be the girl in the fashion magazines, strutting her stuff down the runway or a red carpet, idolized by many, the girl that could wear anything she wanted because her body was just perfect, + she was just perfect. But, I thought, it could never happen because I am me. Just me.
As I got older those insecurities subsided. I came to accept who I was, what my body was. But, that was it. I just accepted it. That’s how I spoke about myself, as something just to accept. Eventually, I realized I wanted to feel more than just some half-hearted acceptance of myself + body. I wanted to love it. Love myself.
Fast-forward to me sitting on a couch, “The Real Housewives of…” some city playing in the background, + I’m browsing through style blogs galore when it hits. I should start my own blog exploring my personal style. Sure, it’ll be a little weird putting myself out there that way, but that’s the only way to do it. In discovering my own style, I could discover myself. What I like. Who I am. How strong I am. How weird. What pushes me. Why I should love myself.
In two years, it’s happened. I’ve come to love myself more than ever. The fuck tons of fears + insecurities don’t run my life anymore. Through this whole blogging adventure, I’ve had to put myself out there, my personality, my thoughts, my body. A lot of me. And through it all, I’ve come to realize that the superficial stuff that mattered to me was nonsense. None of it is real. Nothing or no one person is perfect. That I may not be the girl in the magazines, but that’s alright because I should be. We all should be. Idolized by many? I need to only be idolized by myself.
It’s been about two years since I’ve started this blog. It started as a hobby I took up while unemployed + is now a journey into myself, + like I said before, of getting dressed in the morning and wearing whatever the hell I want.