Mental Health – Page 2 – M A T E J K A

Thirty Three

It’s been a while since I made a fashion post. Oy. Not being a full-time blogger, I get sidetracked – easily. Well, really that’s just me in life, in general. Shooting for this post I noticed something different though…

There wasn’t ONE photo that I had that I criticized.
I even found myself cheering myself on.

“YAS GURL, Look at you work it! You look fabulous! You’re amazing!”

This has not been the norm for any of my posts thus far. This is a big step.

I’ve been going through a pretty significant change the last few months. I feel like this is maybe something that happens when you’re on the cusp of the 30 year marker of life. I’ve had glimpses of moments like these all throughout my twenties thus far, but nothing as concrete as now.

I’m evolving.

I’m more aware of myself, who I am and all that that entails. I’m more connected to the world around me, in an organic way. I’m becoming less dependent on technology, compared to how I was at the beginning of the year (which could also help to explain my absence). I’m more appreciative of my body, of my essence. I’m speaking more out of love than out of hatred or bitterness – to myself, and to others. In a way, I feel like with the world around me moving forward, I am taking a few steps backwards… in the absolute best way possible. I am finding my true self, and growing in ways that I was stunted from before.

A funny kind of thing is happening along with this. My wardrobe is evolving, too.

I am choosing clothing that I am drawn to kinetically. What my heart and soul are drawn to, instead of my eyes or my wallet. In doing so, I am 1000% more comfortable in my own skin and in what I wear. I think this is the first outfit that I’ve worn in a long time (or maybe ever) that I honestly love every part of, and how I look in every part of it.

Those legs – FOR DAYS.
Them thighs – #QUADGOALS.
Those curves – DELICIOUS.
Them arms – STRENGTH.
Dat booty – HI I HAVEN’T SEEN YOU IN SO LONG NICE TO HAVE YOU BACK.

All the pieces of me that I used to tear apart, I am falling so madly in love with. I didn’t think that was possible, but the more I evolve, the stronger that love becomes – and I am so elated. Loving myself has never been easy, but I am learning and I am finding happiness within the lesson.

I hope that if you’re reading this, and you’re feeling the way that I am so used to feeling, that you too will discover love and happiness within your own lesson.

Life is hard. If we hold each other up, we can get through anything.

“All we need is love…”

❤

I am SO obsessed with bodysuits right now. And this jacket…and these jeans…and boots…and sunglasses.
I would actually (and quite possibly just might) wear this every single day. So, I can’t promise that I’ll have much new content coming in the near future. #SorryNotSorry …

Jacket – Garage (on clearance!)
Bodysuit – H&M
Jeans – Gap (1969 fit)
Boots – DUNE London
Sunnies – Winners Fab Find

Thirty Two

I just wanted to take a moment to share my thoughts on this particular photo today. Kayley Reed (of Wear Your Label) had posted it to Instagram the other day, and it really struck a chord with me.

As soon as I saw it, I just sat there, mouth gaping.

“HOLY SHIT”, I thought. “This is exactly what I felt but could never have put into words.”

Because I’ve been that person.

I’ve been the girl who spent hours upon hours staring at her body in a mirror and scrutinizing every single millimetre of canvas. The girl who only knew how to spew hateful things at what she saw in the mirror because she was taught by the media that it was ugly or disgusting.

I’ve been the girl who starved herself; the girl who would pass up the foods she loved or quality time with her friends for supper because she couldn’t bear to see that food turn into fat. Who binged and purged, to fit a mould that wasn’t even designed for humans; to have her shoulder blades and hip bones jut out, like a picture frame corner stretching a mesh screen.

The hatred and sheer loathing that roamed around my head – I’m not skinny enough, I’m not hairless or smooth enough, I’m not tall enough or my skin’s not dark enough. My nose isn’t small enough, my lips aren’t big enough. I’m not “womanly” shaped or curvy enough.

You know what?

I AM EVERYTHING ENOUGH.

I am pretty enough, and curvy enough. I am brave enough, and bold enough. I am smart enough, and strong enough. I am brilliant enough, and inquisitive enough. I am fierce enough, and loyal enough. I am kind enough, and I am honest enough. I am complete enough.

I AM EVERYTHING ENOUGH, and I have had enough with the absolutely ridiculous pressures and standards put on women and girls in society today. It’s not attainable, it’s not healthy and it’s NOT important. What is important is your happiness and your feeling of self-worth (and yes, your health is absolutely important, too).

It has taken me almost 29 years to love myself, in a world that should have been teaching me to do just that from the day that I was born. So my advice is this:

Love your cellulite (booty dimples), and your stretch marks (tiger stripes). Love your bread rolls, your sushi rolls, all your rolls (from enjoying wonderful food with family and friends). Love your chin hairs (wisdom tinsel) and your back hairs (stray eyebrows). Love your crows feet and your laugh lines, and all the random lines that are earned over time (they are radiant records that you have laughed and felt joy).

Love and treasure every one of your “imperfections”. You grew into them, grew up with them and you continue growing with them. They are a part of you. Embrace it all, wholly, because without it – you are not you. And you, as you are, are perfectly imperfect. Speak out of love to yourself. Speak out of positivity to the girl you see staring back at you in the mirror. Be proud of what makes you unique. Be proud of each marker that shows you have lived and are living.

You are so much more than this spaceship you were born into; you are the soul within it. You are the accumulation of your experiences; the love and the laughter that lights up your face, the tears and the heartache that show you your strength and courage. You are the empathy that lends a helping hand, the compassion that comforts another in need. You are the wisdom that sees another through, and the encouragement that embraces a moment of weakness. You are the knowledge that instills pride in others, and the kindness that births a grin. You are a beacon of hope to someone in darkness, and you are the light of jubilation to someone morose.

You are incredible, and a mirror or a scale cannot show you that.

You have always been beautiful because your true beauty can not be physically altered. So hug yourself tight, forgive your past remarks, and begin to love every single square inch. You owe it to your soul, to defy what you’ve been subconsciously taught and realize that there is absolutely nothing wrong with the way you look. You are still the most beautiful word.

❤

Thirty One

Today’s post is not going to be about fashion. It’s going to be about something so much greater. It’s going to be long, and full of photos. Some of these photos are flattering, some are not. Most of them I had no idea were being taken but each of them has a story, and each of them carries an emotion. I wasn’t expecting my journey to be captured in such a raw and authentic way…but for that, I am ever so grateful to my wonderful boyfriend who, in his pride for me, decided to document the steps of my journey – both good and bad. I couldn’t have asked for a greater gift.

Yesterday, I began the journey to conquering my fears.

One of those is a crippling fear of heights.
Like, we’re talking heart-stopping, throat-tightening, won’t-even-walk-near-a-second-floor-railing-in-a-mall fear of heights.

So naturally, I decided to climb a mountain.

This whole thing started a week ago. My boyfriend and I went on a casual hike in the mountains to Heart Creek Trail. While we were there, he took notice of Heart Mountain, which the trail runs alongside.

His first instinct – “Wow! I want to climb that.”
Mine? – “Are you INSANE?!”

But the day went on, and the more I thought about it, the more the idea intrigued me. It wasn’t until we saw other climbers along it’s edge that I started to think, “Okay, we could totally do that. It can’t be that hard.” So with very few hours left in the day (and a watch telling us the incorrect time), we set out to find where this mountain climb began.

We made it (what we thought) about half way up, until the weather turned and a storm started rolling in. I’ve watched enough movies and documentaries to know that when weather on a mountain starts to change, you don’t take it lightly. I made the executive decision to turn around and head back down, though my win did not come without a fight. We decided that we would try again, and next time we would make it.

Fast forward a week to April 10. We once again found ourselves standing at the base of Heart Mountain. This time more determined than ever, and clearly having brought our naivety along with us for the ride. Our previous venture had seemed like a breeze. I was surprisingly not scared at all, given the circumstances, and regardless of the insane reviews that we had read since our first failed attempt, I was totally convinced that this would be a cake walk.

I was not at all prepared for the experience I was willingly walking right into.

I was doing this to face a demon, a fear that has plagued me intensely in my adult life. I had expected there to be some physical challenge, but I could never have prepared myself for the psychological torture I was about to be drug through.

The first part (what we now realize was about a quarter) of the hike went smooth like our first attempt. We both took notice that we didn’t have the same energy as the last time, but we chalked that up to lack of sleep/lack of heat/lack of warm up/lack of oxygen… basically any excuse we could give ourselves that would convince us to keep going.

Great start, amiright lol

See? Breezy!

Everything was truly going dandy, until we breached our previous turn-around point.

It was in this moment that I was playing the comedian and scoffed, “Oohh looks like the fun really starts here!”, but little did I know how accurate my ‘comedy’ would become.

The thought that I was maybe in for more than I realized crossed my mind, but I quickly shot that down and told myself it was just nerves. I’ve never climbed a mountain before!

I even took a moment to twerk a little since my boyfriend is a genius and brought along a portable radio for us. (I can’t believe he actually took a picture of this LOL)

Werk, werk, werk, werk, werk, werk…

Peekaboo!

Ahh, still happy! Still quite clueless.

I had already had a few moments of having to reiterate to myself that I could do this, that I was capable… though it was previous to this point that I had decided it was time to put up the blinders, and try my damnedest to NOT look left or right – and ESPECIALLY DO NOT LOOK BEHIND YOU/DOWN.

CHEERS! (Obligatory tourist shot)

Moving forward didn’t seem so bad now. I was keeping my eyes on the prize aka staring directly at the ground in front of me, only briefly looking up and forward to remain on path and nothing else.

It was here that my first true anxiety attack came on. I had tears well up in my eyes, my throat started to close in and restrict my already low intake of oxygen…I was shaking so badly I thought I would slide right off the side of the mountain.

I actually had to stop and bring myself into Tree Pose to reground. RIDICULOUS, right?! My boyfriend had a mild heart attack when he saw me standing on one leg on the side of the mountain. It took everything in me to calm my nerves and re-centre myself to keep going; that tiny bit of yoga that I brought with me made a world of difference in that moment.

In fact, here is a photo I took just after I got myself together; for the first time in a long time I snuck a peek to my left…and just about shit my pants. There’s the slope for ya!

I muttered to myself, “Terrible idea…” and owned a moment of self-hatred for straying from my plan of action.

I reminded myself, swallowing the lump in my throat, that I could do this, that I was safe. That I needed to put those blinders back up and everything would be just peachy!

Yeah. Safe. Peachy. All good!

Well, it must have worked, because my smile was back!

(Or maybe that had to do with having no idea that THIS was behind me!?!)

It didn’t last for long. Tackle one hurdle, only to come face to face with another more challenging one. If it wasn’t having to navigate our way up increasingly steeper slopes, it was having to straight up free style rock climb over a ridge (or two).

It was here that I looked up, said, “Are you f***ing kidding me!…”, turning to my boyfriend like:

He chuckled at my expression, and I half hoped I was joking – although seeing this photo now, there is no denying the truth behind it. I was terrified and feeling defeated. I had made it through the first rock climb required and was hoping with all hope that I wouldn’t have to repeat it. But here we were.

I can’t count the number of times that I said both inside my head and out loud, “Why the hell did I think this was a good idea?”…and I wouldn’t know the answer to that question for another almost 2 hours.

Being the sweet man he is, my boyfriend softly suggested I try a more upbeat approach. We had both been reciting positive mantras to the other when one of us started to question our inner confidences. It served to help the other, but I think it helped ourselves more.

So I responded:

Fake it ’til you make it, right?!

I had a moment of utter weakness at this point, and all I could think was, “I can’t fucking do this. There is NO WAY that I can do this. If I somehow find a way up, there’s no way I’ll find a way down.”

Out of nowhere, like the clouds parting and the rays of the sun bursting through, I got a second wind; I had come up for a breath of air.

“F**K IT. What am I doing?! I’m bad ass!!! I can totally do this. I’m just gonna do it, and that’s that!”

Off I went with gumption.

That confidence lasted all of 5 minutes.

“Babe, look back here for a second.”
“No thanks.”
“Come on! Just a quick second.”
“… okay fine.”

CHEESE!

And, in this moment of looking back when I promised myself that I wouldn’t – my friend Annie Anxiety had returned. ALL that consumed my thoughts now was, “How the fuck am I going to get off of this mountain if I keep going? I can’t keep going. I have to turn around. I’m probably already stuck here.”

A little voice inside me started to speak and I remembered the reason why I was doing this – that I was fighting against this very thought – and it gave me strength to push on. I had already made it THIS far and there was no damn way I was doing this a third time. Now or never. We were way too close to the summit to pack up now.

Onward! Pull those big girl panties up. Find a way.

NAILED IT.

A short while later and we had reached our destination! SUMMIT! FINALLY!

Nothing could have prepared me for the emotion that would hit me like a freight train.

All I could do was cry (and thank God for sunglasses 😉 ).

The pride that overwhelmed me was incredible.

I DID IT. I ACTUALLY DID IT. I’M SITTING HERE THOUSANDS OF FEET IN THE AIR AND I’M STILL TERRIFIED BUT I’M HERE. I MADE IT.

The tears that I swallowed, the trembling, the fear that I had to continually beat down inside of me – to push my body and my mind past its absolute limits – all for this moment. This achievement. This victory.

Now I understood why I knew this was a good idea.

I drank it in like nectar to a bee.

And then I just sat there.

Alone with my thoughts. Totally engrossed in this divinity of nature; in this connection that I was pulled towards so strongly. Revelling in my glory, but also in sadness. How can moments like these go so unappreciated by some? This Earth. Our home. Its magic. These majestic, strong, jagged peaks that literally thrust their power and beauty into your face.

Perspective. Appreciation. Respect. Gratitude.

And I cried again, out of grief for this world. I was so overcome.

Eventually, I gathered my emotions, and my belongings, and wandered off to explore with my love. To take in the grand scenery that enveloped us. To dwell in what we had accomplished together.

Truly on top of the world, by all definitions ❤

We were speechless.

The views the whole way through this trek were breathtaking; worth the pain and sweat, worth every tear, worth every thought that I had had to combat.

(I have a thing for contrasting textures)

After sending out a little gift of love and thanks, we began our descent. I had no choice but to look down at this point, and something strange was happening. The more I embraced the view, connected with the Earth, trusted my own strength – the more my fear and anxiety began to fade.

This climb was far more psychologically challenging than I could ever have imagined. I wasn’t expecting my anxiety to join me, in all her glory, on this journey; to skip along beside me, chanting taunts into my ear. I was not at all prepared for the physical or emotion breakdown that I would endure. The grip of terror that would wrap itself around my throat, choking me. The breath that would be harder and harder to take, and not just because the air was thinning.

When I made the concrete decision to summit Heart Mountain and face my fear of heights, I had no idea what I had signed myself up for. I’d seen photos of people who had done it, and I’d thought that it looked so easy. So attainable…and attainable it is, but it was not without a price.

When I decided to summit Heart Mountain, spending a solid 1.5 of the almost 3 hours it took fighting back tears wasn’t what I pictured. I had to battle so much of my mind that I questioned each step of the way if this was what I actually wanted to do.

Had I made a good decision?
Was I crazy to think I could do it?
Who the hell decides to do this in their right frame of mind anyway, especially with a paralyzing fear of heights!?!?
Couldn’t I have started with a jungle gym or a ladder?!

In setting this goal, and stopping at nothing to reach it, I learned a few things.

I learned that the only limitations I have I’ve set myself, and they exist only in my mind.

I learned that maybe to conquer our fears (and our minds), we must learn to walk hand in hand with them. We have the power. We always will.

I learned that I can trust myself, because that trust will carry me through.

I learned that I am an extremely emotional being, and to allow myself to live in those moments of emotion is empowering. It’s brave, and bold. It’s human, and it makes me stronger.

I learned that I am so much more capable than I ever would have given myself credit for. That when I think it’s time to quit, I’ve only just begun.

My face might be burned to a crisp (because I always fucking forget sunscreen), and my body might be aching in places I didn’t even know could ache – but my soul is so beyond fed and I am so humbled and changed by this experience. I can’t wait to do it again.

❤

Twenty Eight

I wore my WYL tee to Zumba tonight. This was a personal big step.

It’s always been tricky for me to broach the subject of mental health (especially when it comes to my own), much less wear it on my chest like a neon sign.

I’m now pretty convinced that they should add “magic” to the list of what goes into these shirts. I’ve never felt as confident in my class as I did tonight.

There’s something about wearing a shirt that says “It’s Okay Not To Be Okay”: implying that I’m human, that I live with Depression and/or Mood Disorders, that I am sad/down/confused/lost a lot of the time simply because of the way my brain is wired…

…and yet, here I am: singing, smiling, laughing, dancing, [sweating my arse off]

GENUINELY having the time of my life.

It’s a reminder, a humbling moment.

It’s not always grey skies and rain clouds. There are times of sunshine and unicorns and lollipops. And I’ve come to realize that I can be free, and I can be ME, by focusing on the things that coax the sun out from behind the clouds (like Zumba!)… and being okay with sometimes not being okay. It’s not a crime, it shouldn’t be taboo – it’s all a part of being a living, breathing, growing soul.

Even though I saw curious eyes drift over to what I was wearing, nothing was said. And that’s okay. I wasn’t expecting any conversation to happen, but I know that unspoken words speak volumes; if by wearing this magical t-shirt to my class I encourage another woman to accept and love herself for her own rainy days … that would be something amazing in itself 🙂

❤

I really need to get on ordering more of these wonderful pieces!

Sixteen

In keeping with the conversation on mental health and wellness from yesterday, I want to focus today’s post on things that make me happy! Sometimes we don’t realize how much emphasis we put on the things that bring us down in our lives – let’s work to shift that focus onto the things that lift us up, that make our hearts giddy, that brush a smile across our lips!

So here we go – a few things that make me happy:

— COFFEE, or maybe I should say “cream and sugar with a splash of coffee” as I am a Tim-Horton’s-Triple-Triple-kind-of-girl. HA!
— Popcorn. It’s actually probably unhealthy how addicted I am to popcorn. I am that person who goes to movies literally JUST so I can get popcorn… most of the time I don’t even care what movie I’m watching. LOL
— Peanut butter and chocolate (specifically white). This list is off to a good start, as so far it only contains food items – which definitely make me happy.
— Seasons, and the changing, evolving beauty that they bring. I love that I live in such a diverse climate. I get to witness the birth, aging, death and rebirth of everything over and over again. To see this cycle around me is such a humble reminder that from every loss we can be renewed once again.
— Laughter. Those moments that rumble deep in your gut, surging up through your chest and bursting out the door of your mouth… you know, I really think there is something to the old adage “Laughter is the best medicine.” Especially when you engage in laughter with others 🙂
— Friends/Family. This is the obvious cliche, but it’s so important in life to acknowledge your tribe and be grateful for all they bring you. Family isn’t always blood. Your circle consists of who your soul connects with, those who love and appreciate you for who you are, and who lift you and bring you to the best version of you possible.
— Theatre/Film. I love the arts so much. I was very much involved in them throughout school. Being on a stage is such a natural thing for me. It’s a great expression of truth, and I love witnessing the growth of this expression in other performers – whether on stage or in film. I’m a HUGE movie buff. If I’m not roaming the lands for great deals on awesome pieces, you’re more than likely to find me watching a play or a flick.
— Writing. Ahhh, all my other writers – I bet you can relate to this 🙂 The older (and wiser) I get, the more I appreciate and am thankful for allowing myself to undress onto a sheet of paper. There’s something so therapeutic not only about emptying your thoughts and ideas onto a canvas, but also in the physical act of penmanship itself. I adore cursive, and it’s one of the greatest things I look forward to teaching my future children.
— Dancing and ZUMBA! Growing up a dancer, movement has always been a part of me. I danced my whole childhood and well into adulthood (from 6 to almost 22!). When I quit my dance studio, I just felt lost. A fire inside of me was snuffed out. Enter: Zumba Fitness! For real, Zumba gave me meaning again. It brought my light back; it got me back to dancing down the aisles of Walmart and Home Depot (lol I dance EVERYWHERE I go). I have been participating in Zumba for around 4 years now and it’s one of the most entertaining, enjoyable things I’ve been a part of. After a long week, it’s the one thing I look most forward to. So many smiles and laughs, and sweat! Who can ask for a better combo?! 😉

What is it that makes you happy?

Speaking of Zumba, I’ve decided to showcase my favourite Zumba style. These pants bring one thing to mind: This is how I roll, animal print pants outta control … Fun fashion definitely does not stop on the streets. Don’t be afraid to bring it to the gym with you! I love drop-crotch pants … I lovingly refer to them as my ‘diaper pants’ (HAHA) but honestly, they are SO comfortable. For Zumba they make me feel like I’m part of an awesome hip-hop group -which in a way I kind of am- and it makes the class that much more exciting. Get your thrills wherever you can, ladies and gentlemen!!! 🙂 I own these pants in black as well, and usually those are my go-to’s for class; when the sweat starts pouring, lighter colours are sometimes not the best choice, you know because…. well, I’ll leave that image to you! I altered one of my favourite Victoria’s Secret PINK tees (for better ventilation mostly), and I never leave the house for class without my Cons in hand. NOTE: If you have bad arches or just need more support for your feet, I recommend not dancing in Converse shoes.

Fitness can sometimes be gruelling, so aim to make it fun whenever you can! I encourage you to bring a little more of “you” to your style choice the next time you head to the gym! 🙂 See how it makes you feel! You’re already hella awesome for working on building a stronger you, both in mind and body – give yourself room to have a little FUN with it! ❤

Fifteen

#BellLetsTalkDay

There are so many different sides to this story. So many depths, and facets to mental illness. So much behind the stigma, and so much more behind the warriors who are challenged by it every single day. This is just the view from my side of the fence.

“Handle With Care.” There are times that I wish I could affix this label to my forehead before leaving my house. Some days it would just make things so much simpler…but I’m not looking for pity or sympathy. I simply seek to find understanding, just as countless others do. Understanding that we are humans. That we having feelings and emotions. That we have an organ that has carved a different path for us than others.

I’ve been told that I come off as a very confident, put together person, and some days I’ve honestly had to laugh at that sentiment. “I’M confident and put together?!” Tell that to the laundry basket of mismatched socks sitting in my closet… Or the crumpled pile of kleenex that didn’t quite make its way to the garbage tin. I am not always confident, or strong. I have moments where I feel more fragile than a dried rose petal. Sometimes these moments last for just that, moments. Sometimes they last for hours, days, weeks. I’m not ashamed of the days that my sun doesn’t shine quite as brightly, and you shouldn’t be ashamed of yours either. Yin does not exist without yang. My light does not compete with the dark that sits beside it, or the fleck that rests within it. They are both a part of me, a part of my life, and so I am learning to love both of the halves that make me whole. I am seeking a better understanding of my inner self so that I can more appropriately share that with others; to break through the glass plate that separates us from each other. To remove the barrier, to create dialogue, to lift the stigma off and my fellow warriors up.

Every person has a past, a story. Whether that story is available in the public library for checkout or in a private home library depends entirely on the person. Each of us fights our battles in our own way. Some people eagerly share their stories, while others have a hard time even reading it to themselves. Whichever way you face your own battlefield each day, know that you are not alone in your fight. We all have our battle wounds. You are NEVER alone, and it is OKAY to not be okay. Each scar is a reminder that we have survived. We have overcome. We have conquered. We are BADASS.

Living with mental illness is not easy; in fact, it’s incredibly difficult. To always be fighting an internal battle that no one else is witness to; to carry not only everything heavy within you, but to also have the extra burden of the stigma that society has created towards it. It’s like carrying around a backpack full of textbooks that nobody else can see. It is arduous and punishing, and you are NOT alone. We are in this together. Do you know how remarkable and courageous you are to wake up each day and fight against the demons within you?

Whether you’ve been diagnosed with a mental illness, or are just prey to the trials that life brings – always remember, it is okay to not be okay. Every single one of us is faced with struggle at some point in our time on this Earth. Every single one of us has a strength within that we are unaware of. You are a warrior. You CAN conquer.

As we open up the lines of communication and start our conversations, let’s remember one thing – something that one of my favourite blondes delivers on a daily basis:
“Be Kind to One Another.”

I encourage anyone out there struggling to seek help in a way that you are comfortable with – whether that be a hotline, a doctor, a friend or family member. There are avenues out there available to you, and people out there who want to help. ❤

The shirt and bracelets in this post are from a pretty awesome little Canadian company, founded on the East Coast, called Wear Your Label. I first stumbled upon them last summer and fell in love with what they set out to achieve – and are surely on the fast track to doing so. They’ve created a clothing line to get the conversations about Mental Health Awareness flowing, while giving back in support of mental health initiatives.

Check them out at www.wearyourlabel.com or on social media @wearyourlabel !

Eight

So, I was thinking. As I was getting myself ready to head off to a Broadway show this weekend (more to come later about that awesomeness), I started to think.

As a teenager, and a young adult, I used to wear a lot of makeup. Most of it started up when I hit puberty and my skin flipped overnight to something I was so ashamed of. Even once it began to clear up a few years later, I still kept caking it on. It wasn’t to feel pretty, and it wasn’t because I loved playing with it – it was simply to hide. To hide myself, and to hide everything that I was ashamed of within me. I became so accustomed to this literal mask I would paint on each day, that eventually I forgot what a farce it truly was and I started to just accept that it was part of who I am.

Last year, I was forced to throw it all out since my skin once again took a nosedive. I haven’t been able to wear cover up since. I guess this must be my body’s way of finally pushing me to ‘face the music’ and live my true self. It hasn’t been easy….but it’s also been an incredible blessing.

Sometimes, it is just exhausting to function in this society. As a woman, there are so many expectations of who I should be, how I should behave and speak, what I should wear or how I should look…. eventually I grow tired of trying to keep it all straight. Unfortunately, men are not immune to the stereotypes of our society either. So, I was thinking. Why is it that I allow myself to feel less accepted when I choose an outfit like the one outlined in this post? When it’s not all “glitz and glam”, when it’s comfortable, when I choose not to wear anything on my face? Why do I allow myself to feel less than I am? Is this really how society has spun the arrow for us? To constantly be set in a direction that so many of us can’t follow. It shouldn’t be about how we are told or made to feel in comparison to the tabloids that we read, but how we actually feel in the presence of those who know us for all of our faults and insecurities, and love us anyway.

There are going to be days that you don’t want to even brush your hair. You’ll leave your house in sweats… but don’t sweat it. ROCK the SHIT out of those sweats honey! There are going to be days that you get all dolled up, even if you have nowhere to go looking so fab (and you KNOW you look so fab that you take 26 selfies just to document that perfect wing).

Both of these days are okay. In both of these scenarios, you are still as important, and attractive, and valuable. It’s OKAY to give yourselves a break; in fact I encourage it. Cut yourselves a little slack. You’re amazing, and talented, and worthy. You deserve it.