I’ve always tended to consider myself stylish. Not in a conceded way, but I love clothes, and I love fashion. And once upon a time, I had a lot less fear when it came to getting dressed in the morning. That was back in a day when I took pride in how clean and organized I was, and could hold my head high as I walked. I miss that girl I used to be, a lot. I miss feeling excited about getting dressed, instead of anxious. I miss coming up with looks, and stories behind those looks. I miss actually wearing my clothes instead of just throwing on a black sweater, jeans, and an over-sized scarf that covers up everything else.
Today, for the first time in a while, I decided I didn’t feel like hiding. Sure, work isn’t exactly the most glamorous of runways, but none the less I took the time coming up with something to wear, settling on my favorite Christmas dress (it’s a plaid dress from when I was six, without a word of lie), a black skirt underneath, black tights, my black boots and a black sweater. It was definitely more flashy than I’ve dressed in a while, but it felt good. I felt pretty and fun, the kind of fun I used to feel once-upon-a-time… and I liked it. It made me want to try harder, to find that spark inside of myself that felt alive and the girl who met each day excited to be someone new, in a good way. I know she’s still there, that she’s still a part of me. I just have to find a way to listen to that voice instead of my voice of anxiety.
I have a closet full of clothes, a closet full of possiblities, and it’s time I started having more fun with it.
This could be the start of something new and exciting. I’m finally starting to feel my anxious blahs melting away, if only temporarily. And any excuse for shopping, right?