The world is falling apart!! A weirdo couldn’t possibly possess the ability to become even more unique and weird? And self-driven? Mother of God! She has completely lost it!
Welp… The weirdo just got weirder (according to some). I have embraced my strangeness and followed the path less traveled by conformity junkies and have somehow landed myself in the process of creating an equality based clothing company while sporting my newly shaved head. Well, at least the back of my head.
The company is still being sorted out and altered; however, I am more than determined to have it come to life. The idea for the company came to be when I realized all of the different pages I was following on social media, many are only directed to a single group of people: gays, lesbians, bisexuals, the disabled, and so on. All of these pages were highly successful in empowering and otherwise raising money towards these individual groups. Many times tee shirts or other clothing needs were sold to generate profit and sported catchy slogans and presented a powerful message towards their cause.
My desire is t create a company that will somehow represent and appeal to all people, no matter size, race, gender, sexuality, disability, or any other factor. The clothing will be available for alterations to suit needs, as well as create a fun and uplifting vibe that will unite all of those that wear the clothing instead of trying to shove them in completely different corners of the room.
In the end we are all humans, no matter the circumstances or desires of our society. The clothing will be sized in both male and female sizes. In other words, anyone can purchase a tight or loose fitting tee shirt despite the overwhelming need for other companies to have them separated int eh category of male and female apparel.
The company is still extremely new and still tumbling around in my mind, but no matter what I know for a fact this company will soon come to life. Stay tuned!
Don’t look upstairs, mom. The young girl in her dark tattered dress scattered up the wooden steps. Each wooden board screamed under her tiptoed feet, her dress spun and swayed with delicate threads pulling away from its form. She fluttered into her room, threads following behind with the curly hairs on her head slowly raising towards her bedroom ceiling. She quickly, but quietly, shut the cracked and chipped wooden door before her wonderland erupted.
She turned around in her room like a fairy in the forest. She danced and squirmed, her hair raising higher and higher with the loose threads of her dress while stars glide from wall to wall. Water trickled down from the sky above her. Her toes burry themselves into the sand below her tender feet just before a gust of wind blows her dress as the stars rain down like the water and find the threads of her dress. She giggles when she begins to fly. Her dress a bubble filled with air, the stars directing her up and towards the open sky. The rain washed her face and dirty dress clean and the cries and yelling downstairs slowly become silent.
I just posted a blog post as a kind of answer to the bullies I faced in high school on The Girl in the Boots and I truly surprised myself.
High school was not “the time of my life” as some have told me before. “Embrace these years because you’re gonna miss it.” Lies. All of it.
High school was much like the experience dolphins have in the aquarium. I was on display to be judged and all did judge me. I was forced to preform tasks outside the normal academic routine, I was laughed at, judged by my superiors, and then left alone until it was time to be on display again.
What I have since gathered from all of this is that the comments about my size, hair, voice, and body shape have been received and remain within me; however, I rose above them.
The damage they have caused can still be seen on my body today, but in the end the figurative ghost created by their taunts has diminished.
The girl who was displayed for so much judgment let the words crash with her spirit, but in the end, my spirit has only grown stronger.
Hello readers! Due to a recent turn of events (actually, quite a few of them) I have been unable and unwilling to write on my blog. Emotions have eaten me alive that last few weeks and I did not want that to show through my blog posts which sometimes tend to be somewhat depressive already. Anywho, I am proud to announce that step two of my Ten Steps to Getting your Sh*t Together has gone into effect!!
In case you have absolutely no clue what I am talking about, my Ten Steps list is a previous post I created that is supposed to help me get out of this rut I’ve been in for years. Now that I have realized that I am able to create myself and that I deserve all the happiness in the world, I have began a journey of enlightening myself even further to get this sad girl out in the world as a new self made and happy being.
Step two of my list was one i knew I needed to get done fast because of how easily I can reason with storing things I no longer need. I wouldn’t call myself a hoarder but clothes horse seems reasonable. I’m the person that will go shopping as a way to cover up emotions. When I feel sad or depressed I go to shopping centers and wander around. There’s something about being surrounded by colorful and fun fabrics that brings a smile to my face, and being able to buy them and call them mine, it’s like I am purchasing my own bit of happiness. After a recent breakdown, I realized these clothes I have accumulated are a kind of bandaid that has been covering up a much deeper wound, and the only way to get this wound to heal is to rip off the bandaid and let it breathe.
In the beginning, going through my clothes was easy and kind of fun. I went through one by one and easily tossed them into piles to either donate or keep. The donation pile grew and grew and I became skeptical that this was even going to help, but later as I began to get into my other clothing stashes, it hit me.
I looked at the gigantic pile of clothing on my bed and felt sick. This bandaid was larger than I thought and must have been there covering this deep wound for years. There were clothes in that pile that I have never seen before and many of them still had the tags on, and although I was ready to get rid of this pile of nonsense, I began to feel emotional from this sudden wave of vulnerability. These clothes have covered up the fact that on the inside my body is dressed in black and dark blue, a swirling mixture like a storm brewing in the sky. On the outside I am able to cover myself in bright outfits and a smile and a perky, glowing girl will shine through. getting rid of 50% of my closet means I would have less ways to hide.
I will admit, I feel as though I should have donated more clothing than I did, but the mission of this journey is to allow myself to learn independence and grow, not completely lose myself in the process. My goal is to go back through these clothes and notice what I have not warn and get rid of it (especially those shoes… who wears that many pairs of shoes?!). There is no need to keep things for a make believe value when in reality they are just taking up space.
Once the clothes I have been piled up and placed in bags, I took them to a GoodWill and donated them. I took three large bags and one small bag overflowing with bright colors and gently worn fabrics. Seeing them go was easy, easier than putting them in piles at least. Once I had it in my head that someone else can wear these clothes that I never paid too much time to, it made me feel proud of myself, but I’m still not done. Although I have let go of half of my closet, I still don’t feel like I have accomplished enough to be satisfied with myself. So, I will continue working through this list and see what I am capable of.
Let’s get this sad girl happy again and create her along the way.
Flowers, coffee, and quotes: the perfect start to your day, especially if you make an effort to pick flowers from a random bush on the side of a busy street.
Glad to be alive, the flowers were worth it.
Hello, I’m a terrible blogger who will sit in front of her laptop for hours writing and rewriting posts to then later delete everything and call it a day. I feel self conscious about what I write and sometimes delete posts days later because I still feel embarrassed.
Hello, I’m a terrible blogger who will tell people I have a blog but will not give them its name because I fear criticism. When someone asks me “what do you blog about?” I freeze and quickly make something up because, although I do post short stories and poetry, I also post about personal matters that I would rather leave behind a glass screen for people who haven’t seen my face to read.
Hello, I’m a terrible blogger that will think of creative ideas for posts when I should be studying for class, then blank as soon as I put my fingers to the computer keys. I fantasize about being a well know blogger and writer, and yet my mind stumbles like my fingers stumble along the keyboard. Words get mixed up, letters appear in the wrong place, I hit the wrong punctuation key, I backspace by accident, or I add too many spaces. No wonder I can’t bring the ideas from my head to appear behind the glowing screen in front of me. They’re just being spat out in all the wrong places.
Hello, I’m a terrible blogger that has little to no confidence in myself and somehow hopes people will enjoy my writing. Being a blogger means that you have the power of self expression with the mystery of being an icon image in the corner of another’s screen, and yet, I struggle to put myself virtually out there even if it is just the arrangement of 26 letters that I create.
Hello, I’m a terrible blogger who is on the search for self-awareness, self-love, confidence, the beauty in my shadow, and that light some say they seen in my eyes. I crave a change and I feel as though I am finally ready to make that journey to so save myself, but how does one begin? It is a mystery worth solving.
Subway tiles glow under golden lights.
Noises blend and clinks clatter from porcelain mugs
As the coffee brews and the espresso gains authority
Before the deep sleep deprivator meets its creamy maker.
A hopeful beginning to a helpless night,
A simple reminder to remain in the fight,
For power comes in mugs and plastic to go cups
Just waiting to see you fly and colors erupt.
Confidence is what I desire. Being able to fit into a new setting with as much power and glow that I seem to fit naturally; a perfect piece to any puzzle. But instead I fight with myself. I may begin with as much life and sheen as any other; however, soon I begin to unravel and crumble back into the weak self that I try so much to coat with all the bells and whistles that come with confidence, only to have them later hit the floor.
I managed to work up the courage to go into that job interview; shining bright as the sun; personable, bright, beaming, and radiant. It wasn’t until I got home later that night that I began to unravel and fold back into myself. The interview went well (probably better than I’m imagining it to have gone) and have been asked to come back for an evaluation period to see how easily I pick up information and work with the staff. I was elated to be asked to come back because it means I am one step closer to having a job in the field I wish to have my own business one day.
I felt accomplished and yet when I arrived back at my apartment and realized what just happened and let all the emotions sink in, instantly I began to panic. The simple decision of what I was going to wear on that day put me in a frenzy and near a full blown panic attack. I am proud of myself for not letting these crazed emotions take control of me, and yet, I still can’t wrap my head around the idea that I CAN actually get through all of this and these feelings of doubt and fear are not necessary. In fact, if anything I am over prepared. I have studied the menu and have practically everything memorized except for the alcohol menu, and despite not having previously worked in a cafe or have made all of the espresso drinks, I have the measurements and ingredients memorized. So what am I worried about?! Why can’t I just own my confidence and let everything fall into place as it will? I’m prepared. I’m smart. I have so much more potential than what I am showing myself. I just hope I can find this confidence somewhere deep within me and fight back against those shadows that tend to cover and shade my body and mind, and instead let the small sun grow from my soul and shine through my skin. Just please shine, sun, before Thursday.