I started my first journal when I was nine, and I wrote faithfully almost every day – sometimes in purple crayon in the early days – until I was twenty-five. I remember the exact moment when I realised that I couldn’t bring myself to record the events of my life any longer. I was a new homeowner, just married, the world was my oyster – but I was also working what still remains the worst job I have ever had (by leaps and bounds; when I say that, bear in mind that I coached gymnastics for five years despite not liking children and this job was worse than that.) Two of my three closest friendships had ended within the past year, in both cases because I needed to save my sanity. But my life looked a lot different than I expected it would at twenty-five; I was discouraged and frustrated and my natural problem-solving instinct failed me repeatedly. My outlook, most days, was dismal. I didn’t want to remember my life that way, so I stopped writing about it. Time passed. I got a job that didn’t make me feel like my gender was my biggest liability. I strengthened bonds with my remaining friends and made new ones. In the end, that ugly part of 2011 turned out to be nothing more than a ripple in the placid stream of my life. But I never did start keeping a journal again. Writing has always been an outlet for me, and while I went on with other projects, including this blog, I didn’t work through things that bothered me with a pen and paper. That doesn’t mean that those things went away – that’s really not how it works. I just packed them up and stopped thinking about them. The problem with packing things up is that there is only so much space in baggage, even if it is metaphorical baggage – at some point, there just isn’t any more space and everything overflows. It happened to me last year, at a time and in a way that I least expected it. When it happened, I realised all kinds of things all at once, some of them obvious and some of them less so. One of those realisations was just how much of my wardrobe looked like it belonged to someone who didn’t feel like me anymore. Slowly, I’ve swapped out my skirts for jeans – and, despite some initial reservations, become a serious fan of non-stretch denim; if you love it, you will love the Karolina jeans from Grlfrnd. Personally, I have them in two colours and am contemplating a third! My heels are still high, but I love being able to find a happy medium between the look I love and a reasonable ability to walk, so block heels have been a life saver. The life stuff – I’m still sorting out the mess, to be honest. But I finally picked up a journal again – and a Bic pen, since I’m not in elementary school anymore. And that’s a start.
#grlfrnd #celine #rayethelabel #revolveme