the things i’ve wanted to apologize for, over these years. and why i won’t.

for not being beautiful. for not being a size four or a c cup. for not having the body i’m supposed to.

for not being into fashion and style. for not really giving a shit what’s on the runway this season or that. i can even name you designers, tell you their signature looks, because i tried to care about this. this is what you’re supposed to be, as a woman, right? for not wanting to shop. for cutting my own hair and painting my own nails.

for having my guard up and throwing a bit of snark at every man that approached me, from the start. alternately, for being open, for being raw, for really giving a shit. for making people think in order to talk to me. for having standards, and taking out the trash.

for letting things get messy. for not getting up early to exercise every morning. or even some mornings. for not cooking every day, to be healthy and save money. for not using coupons.

for not loving new york city. for not really understanding why so many people are so in love with it.

i could go on.

i have felt specific guilt for each item on this list. and usually, shame. i have felt the need to apologize to my friends, to the few who truly know me in and out and love me. what the fuck, right?

so here is something i’ve learned. i don’t have to be anything. i don’t have to be a fashionista or a gourmet cook. i don’t have to wear makeup or heels. it doesn’t make me less of anything – as a matter of fact, it only makes me more authentic to stay true to what i want. i don’t have to be sweet, i don’t have to be a neat freak, i don’t have to have starry eyes for this city. i don’t have to have the most organized budget. i don’t have to cross every item off of every list – i don’t have to schedule every second. i don’t even have to exercise. i don’t have to be the wittiest, the funniest, the deepest writer.

just because it’s great and works for other people, and is admirable, does not mean that it’s a requirement in order to succeed as a human.

the pressure i’ve put on myself, you’d think the world would rip at its seams if i was not everything.

but it is not true. it is a lie.

and by extending myself and my efforts into things that aren’t me, i’ve dishonored what i am. what we are, at the very end of the day, is all we’ve really got.

so i vow to not give the slightest of fucks that i don’t care what’s on the chanel runway, or that i don’t care about the many many things that i don’t care about. i have all of the qualities i do, be them flaws or perks or just things, things that make the fabric of me. i vow to listen to what those things are, instead of hiding them for the sake of a false image of what should be. i vow to devote my energies to what is real, what i want, and what engages me.

because why would you ever do anything else?

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