I find myself thinking of death more often. Somehow it wasn’t there when I was flying around on the backs of motorcycles 10 years ago, but now I find myself thinking about it while driving to work.
I realized that my biggest fear (more than giant centipedes and Frank the rabbit) isn’t about death itself, but about dying before fully being myself. I and know the only thing holding me back from myself is me.
In the end, in the very last moment, it’s just me and my thoughts and experiences. That’s all my life will eventually amount to.
That sounds depressing but it really isn’t. It’s freedom.
I live, I experience and interact, and then I die and face whatever does or doesn’t happen after that.
Life and death happen all on their own– I don’t have to worry about executing those intricate and inexplicable phenomena. What I do have control over is what I do in between all that. The experiences and interactions are all I’ll ever truly own (and all I can ever take with me), so how exciting that those are the things I have a say in?
I never thought I’d still have unnatural colored hair at 30, but I do; and all while comfortably knowing that it’s not for attention or rebellion but for my own happiness. How lucky I am to live in a time where I can so easily alter my appearance to suit my inner expression; how rich a society to be a part of when I can dress myself beautiful things and go to wonderful places.
I used to get on myself about vanity, so I dressed like a tomboy and loathed anything that I deemed shallow or unnatural (like make up and girly clothes, although facial piercings and hair bleach were fine, apparently). I wanted to make sure I was 100% free from societal expectations by showing how hideously unaffected I was — which was ironically a great affectation in itself.
I’ve made lots of mistakes. But that’s life and I learned a ton and I’m so glad I went through it. I’ve now been doing a lot of thought about what really truly makes me happy, regardless of what anyone else thinks. Not in my 19 year old rat-tailed way, but in a genuine understanding of my own true brand of self expression.
I want to be as honest as possible, to myself, to my readers and clients, to everyone.
Since I realized this, a great heaviness has been lifted. I’m no longer expressing myself for (or against) society or friends or lovers or parents; I know this is fully me. And so many things I’m still experiencing inner conflict over — I didn’t realize so many things I gravitated towards were for ideals that I didn’t even truly like!
On the other end of the spectrum I no longer believe that “vanity” is a weakness. Humans embellish themselves, whether it be with mud paint or priceless jewels. We all crave to express ourselves — it’s only when we rely on the external factors of the affect of that expression that it can become neurotic.
I’ve always envied girls who seemed to innately know exactly what their look and style was; the ones who seems to feel right at home without having to jump around experimenting in all sorts of styles that always felt a bit like an act. And it’s way more than just fashion, but acceptance of who I really was as a person. I found I had to make a conscious decision to accept everything that I am and celebrate that.
It has to make sense to me, first and foremost. I am me so why seek anything but what works for myself? All the contradictions and multiple niches that I never fully fit into and the oddness that I still feel are great things. I am my own unique niche.
Life’s too short to not be the biggest, best, funnest and fullest expression of myself.
One day I’m going to be dead.
I’m not immortal but neither are judgements from others and “shoulds” from society.
100 years from now this all won’t matter. So I will make it matter while I still can.
BIGGEST. BEST. FUNNEST AND FULLEST.