You Found Me (And So Did I!)
Hi there!
I presume you discovered this little site because I firsthand advertised for it on one of today's various social media outlets. Therefore, it can then be inferred that you already know quite a lot about me. But this post isn’t so much an ‘about me’ as it is a lesson.
Yes, what do I know about life lessons? I, for one, am still but a wee student myself. But there is one thing that makes me rather qualified to speak on this matter, and that is called ‘I Escaped Grade School’.
Middle school. Yes, the age of fitting in. I speak of the dark ages, ones that are probably urging you to delete every photo of yourself off of Facebook circa 2010 and every year prior. Personally, I recall my collection of Hollister sweatshirts and the daily regimen of straightening my already nearly-flat hair. By seventh grade, makeup became part of my morning routine. By eighth grade, I began wearing contacts.
I truly believe there is no way to curb this persistent need to fit in during those years. It is a transition from the secure arms of an elementary life of coddling, into the broader world of the teenage years. Gosh, you’re a teenager. Hello independence, hello being cool! I also have come to realize that is an age of insecurity. With newfound emancipation from the smothering grasp of parents and teachers alike, children are let to their own devices of what they quantify as important. Being popular seems far more attainable now, because you’re a teenager, and, unless you share a mutual opinion with Gerard Way on track 11 of 'The Black Parade', teenagers are cool. Right?
It’s a sad mentality, but it’s one that plagues way too many youngsters of not only this generation, but generations past and future as well. It is not a changing feeling. Gosh, teenagers rebelled way back in the history books (who else recalls the bratty little Abigail from Arthur Miller’s ‘The Crucible’? Stirring the pot since 1692). So no, kids. You’re not being “new” or “edgy”. At least you didn’t wholeheartedly start a witch hunt that resulted in the hanging of various townsfolk. Cringey selfies are the least of your worries.
It wasn’t until my final year of high school that I truly became who I have always been. Unafraid of judgment due to the sand nearly emptied out of the hourglass of high school, I embraced my inner weirdo dork and let it show without inhibitions. Who cared if what I liked was ‘cool’, or if how I dressed was ‘in’? I liked it, and quite frankly, had never felt more comfortable in my own skin. My music taste, my openness about reading and writing, and my outward appearance have all morphed to their true form since the epiphany of ‘the real world is about to hit’ set in. Screw anyone who had a problem with the fact that I blasted 2004 My Chemical Romance from my Jeep Liberty, or the people who thought it was nerdy to never shut up about the new Star Wars film (and dressed as Princess Leia to the theater that day). Why should people who disagree with the way I enjoy life staunch that? Once I began living life the way I enjoyed it, I regretted all of the years I spent not doing precisely that.
Today, I would like to describe my style as some ‘dark, artsy grunge’ combination of weirdness, with a base color of black and the overlaying element of class. I never dress down, even when I am sick. While plenty of people stumble into our 9am lecture in their Minnie Mouse pajama pants and washed-once SUNY Potsdam sweatshirt, hair in a messy bun, I would never dare. Now, don’t get me wrong- I have immense respect for those who feel comfortable doing that. Personally, however, that strategy doesn’t work. There is just something empowering about looking good all the time (and I mean this in the least arrogant way possible, of course). What I am saying is that I enjoy being clean, well dressed, and prepared for anything. While I might just be in Philosophy right now, my friends might want to walk into town when I get out of class. And after that, we might go out to dinner or drive to Canton for a movie. And while aesthetics aren’t for everyone, they’re certainly important to me. It just makes me feel more confident when I can open the front camera on Snapchat and not look like an absolute monster.
And so, every day, I do a full face of makeup. I spend deliberate time selecting the perfect outfit for the day. I brush my hair, I put on jewelry. Now, some people might see these tasks and immediately mark me as insecure. She can’t leave the dorms without being all dolled up? She must feel really awful about her natural self. Right? My friend, you couldn’t be more wrong. It is not a personal, self-loathing that drives me to get ready every day. Rather, it is my own promise to care for myself, and to create a presentable persona each time I leave my room. In fact, I would actually go as far to say that it is a variation of self-respect.
And it’s all a part of growing up, I have learned. Middle school me wouldn’t believe it if she saw the person I am now. I recall internally striving for a more eclectic style, a more distinct personality; but at the same time I also recall crying for hours about not fitting in. It’s a terribly common paradox that preteens find themselves in- one that we have seen since the age of the Flintstones. And while we cannot remove the natural human desire for conformity, we have to show kids that it’s okay to be an outlier sometimes.
After all, ‘popular seventh grade girl’ is not a highly paying career option.
It is my hope that this blog helps you find in you what I found in me. And while our passions may not intertwine or we may disagree on the occasional topic, I pledge to serve as a model for the unique, confident human being you deserve to be.
Stay crazy, dolls ❣
xoxotay