This time a year ago I was pretty unhappy with myself, I’d been unhappy with myself for a while but had only just realised it. I was getting up each morning and panicking about how best to “look the part” for a job I didn’t choose. My mind often harked back to the words my boss used, on a day when I’d come to work dressed more like the Comms Manager and less like myself… “now she definitely looks the part“. A shiny long top, shiny tights and super high heels, and I looked the part. As time wore on I felt I should have been dressing more to this part, but couldn’t bring myself to do it. So I’d go to work each day feeling like the ugly duckling and that I needed to be some form of fashionista in order to fit in.
Once upon a time I was the girl with flare jeans, op-shop clothes including “old man pants” and men’s shirts. I was the girl who wore velvet cat collars (with a bell attached) to the school ball while carrying a zebra print handbag. I had my own style and wasn’t afraid of needing to look the part.
I love retail, and I love marketing but the beauty business wasn’t really me. I found myself worrying about being “on trend” and looking polished… and had somehow forgotten my own sense of style, I’d forgotten me. I’ve always been a bit “whacky around the edges” as my mother would say but lost myself in a desperate attempt to fit in. I started adopting other peoples sense of style and sense of self, like a teenager trying to be cool.
I often wonder if I introduced new friends to the me from 18-24 months ago if they’d recognise me as the same person. Equally so, I wonder if I introduced my friends from 18-24 months ago to the me from my early twenties whether they would know me at all.
I understand that as humans that we grow and change, blah blah blah and develop etc but I’m fairly certain somewhere along the way I just stopped being me.
I stumbled across The Rebel Society blog yesterday, which is collage of brilliant blog topics all woven together with stunning images. After wandering around this blog for thirty or forty minutes I was drawn to an article entitled 41 Regrets You Don’t Want to Take to Your Grave. On the surface another blog post in the form of a list, but in reality it was a whole lot more…it was a list of things I’d previously been doing.
- Spending years being someone I’m not.
- Not using my voice.
- Not supporting those around me.
- Saying yes to things I knew weren’t right.
It’s easy to get swept up in people pleasing and fitting in, especially when you’re out of your element. You can’t be all things to all people… and in trying to be just that we just become lost, disillusioned, unhappy and we end up where we don’t want to be.
I’m not here for the fashion, I’m not the foodie, I’m just me… doing my own thing. I’m here for the laughs, random adventures, and the life long friendships with people who are a bit whacky around the edges. As I sit now in my gym gear, with dirty hands from gardening and not a thought about the wardrobe requirements for the week ahead I feel more content than I have in years.
I’m learning to be me again and deciding what motivates me and gives me purpose. I’m finding my passions and making sure I find ways to do what I enjoy more often.