I’ve got to find a new motivation. The self hatred doesn’t seem to be getting the job done like it used to. Feeling bad about myself seemed to work really well as fuel when I was 19; brand new to the LA streets. Now that I’ve grown here in all the definitions of the word, my desire to fit in has waned a lot. Everyone loves the girl in the bandage dress, long tresses shining so vibrantly she could be an angel on the dance floor if it weren’t for her grinding on some stranger to the sound of Fetty Wap reverberating through a club that will disappear in 6 months time; a blip on the night life scene just like her.
That’s not me, and no matter how much of that stuff I’ve done, it never really had been. Skinny or just a little bit fat, I’ve always felt on the outside.
I’m married to being the best me I can be, but it has been confusing trying to nail down exactly what that looks like. Especially when it comes to the boring details, like what does my super alter ego eat for breakfast? My super self would never feel lonely or awkward and drink too many martinis and smoke too many cigarettes. At the same time, she also wouldn’t be afraid to feel that way. I imagine my super self wouldn’t shy away from doing uncomfortable things because she would enjoy the thrill of doing something scary and difficult while also recognizing it’s necessity to become the fully realized version of oneself.
I’d always wanted to look in the mirror and see someone else, instead, now I’m looking forward to seeing the accomplishment of my true self.