June 17, 2016

I haven't been able to blog as usual, lately. To be completely honest, I haven't been feeling it. I've been living way inside my head for the past few days for some reason and I can't even bring myself to post a pre-typed blog post. So today, and possibly over the next few days, I'm just going to talk and I hope that's okay with all of you.

I talk a lot about past experiences and things that have happened in my life. I always try to tell the stories in a satirical tone. You hear/read about the boys, the racism, etc. I realize I often make an effort to speak on things as if they did not/no longer affect me. I make my best attempt to not live in the past, but obviously, that can be rather difficult when some of your past experiences still affect you.

I was once told by a manager not to overly "sell" my weaknesses is my blog posts. I remember wondering what that was supposed to mean. Do I 'sell' my weaknesses in my blog posts? Do I sound attention-seeking? and that's kind of when posts like "Too Fat For Fashion" stopped. I didn't intend for my blog to become overwhelmingly filled with fashion + beauty posts, but it just kind of happened. I never dreamed of having an affiliate network and working with advertisers, but it just happened and I love doing it. With the little I have, I'm so grateful for it. But there were a few problems with this. Never was I actually told that I couldn't blog my thoughts and feelings, but it did kind of seem implied. I couldn't touch on certain subjects because companies wouldn't work with me. I created my blog as a place to share my thoughts and opinions whilst enjoying fashion + beauty, but eventually, it became a brand and it was tough to separate the two.

People I knew would read my blog and get this preconceived idea of who I am as a person. Then I became even more so afraid of displaying my weakness and insecurities. So, it lessened (or perhaps "changed") the information I shared and the more satirical dating posts flourished. Don't get me wrong, I love story time posts. They are probably my favorite, but the reality of the fact is that every situation affected me one way or another. And I feel like I have that disconnect in many of my blog posts.

I use my e-mail & my twitter + instagram dms as a way for readers to converse with me, and many of you do. I cannot count the e-mails that contain something along the lines of, "You're so strong, I would've cried if that happened to me!" "Oh my goodness, I would be so insecure about ____!" and it's interesting since, in most situations, I did cry. I was insecure. I am insecure. I just don't mention it in great detail because it's become such a negative thing to have insecurities and to admit you have feelings. Oh my god, SO emotional.

The thing about this entire situation is that I'm a writer. I enjoy writing. I had a diary from the time I was 7 until I was about 15. There is something so therapeutic about turning thoughts into words on paper (or a screen). I live to write about my feelings. I write about them in little waves or large oceans, depending on the intensity at which I feel them. But this isn't an implication that I want to sit down with everyone I meet and confess my every inner thought to them. It doesn't mean I'll fall hopelessly in love with every person I cross paths with and write about them on my blog. It doesn't mean I'll cry every time I am not a person's cup of tea, even though they may be mine. The implicature of writers being fragile and people who express their feelings being irrationally emotional has always been interesting (and by "interesting," I mean ridiculous) to me.

I have always had a hard time speaking with monotone people. Show some emotion. Get excited about things. Speak loudly. Speak fast. Speak slowly. Speak at length. Why? This is an insecurity of mine. When people speak like they -excuse my language- couldn't give less of a fuck about anything, it makes me feel like they don't want to talk to me. I've always been the girl to send near-paragraph text messages and receive single-sentence replies. It's something that bothers me and I don't even really know why. I like to be double/triple texted when I take too long to reply. (I be forgetting to reply like it's my job.) I guess I'm an annoying person and I like to be annoyed. I guess I relate being annoyed to someone wanting me around because the many times that I've been told I was annoying, it was really just because I wanted someone's attention/wanted them to be around. That barely makes sense, but I don't know. INSECURITIES. 

But insecurities or not, you grow. And yeah, people will want to interrupt that growth and tell you things they know will stunt your growth, but all you can do is grow from the dirt they leave you in. I think that I have grown as a writer and a person over the past few years and most of that growth is due to expressing feelings and insecurities that I was told to keep suppressed and were invalid. I catch myself becoming overly obsessed with proving people wrong and my next success that I often forget to look at how far I've come. From the 12-year-old girl that no one liked and hated herself, the 13-year-old that wouldn't dare take a full body picture. From the 15-year-old who thought she would never amount to anything. Every time I thought I wouldn't recover, I always did. Which is why I think it's important to go back and look at the past - but don't live there.

My point being, living is a process. People keep asking me how I got to who/where I am today and that's not really a question I can answer better than saying, Growth and Experience. No one actually knows what they're doing and everyone had to start somewhere. So, you can't really tell anyone that they're doing life wrong. (Apart from Trump Supporters, they're doing life wrong.)

Of course, they'll be bad days. I'll probably never see a day where I'm completely free of insecurities, but it's really about how you choose to handle them. Kick it in the mud and move forward. Take your time and do things at your own pace and on your time.

I don't really know where I was going with this blog post. I just started typing and ended up here. But I hope it made sense to at least one person.

I'll try to be a normal person next week but I make no promises.

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