There’s a sense of freedom in looking like crap and knowing there is nothing you can do about it. I’m a huge worrier. HUGE. Anxiety queen. But once it’s clear to me that ‘meh, what can you do?’ I totally relax. It’s a sweet sweet relief. And you know what? Even in general lately I’ve been less obsessed with my appearance and what people think of me in general. When I say lately I’m talking the last two years, pretty much my time in Toronto and I think having Jeremy in my life again, have been the turning point. I know, I know it’s cliché to say a person changed my life and it’s not really the case. He just brings out the best in me. I think it’s because he’s confident in himself as a person I don’t need to do any work there or anything.
ANYWAY this was not intended to be a sappy post. I start writing about one thing, another pops out and here I am drenched in maple syrup (I figure I’ll get some disappointed fetishist via google with that statement).
My point is this – I have either lowered my standards or am just more comfortable in my skin. I feel I look worse (by no means shabby!! I’m adorable) than I did 5 years ago and yet I feel better about it. maybe I’m letting myself go, getting older, have a serious boyfriend, it’s only natural. It could be living in a big city, where I’m cocooned in anonymity and can let go a little. Who knows. I think I’m much more comfortable being adorable than trying to be hot. Plus it suits my personality. Y’know, quirky, messy, geeky, slightly insane. In a good way.
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