FYI, You're so much more than what you look like

 

My own self image has always been a bit of a strange topic for me. How I see myself has been a bit of a rollercoaster throughout the years, and whilst the steep drops and loop-the-loops are now few and far between, that doesn’t mean I’m not faced with a sharp turn every now and then. Especially when faced with my own reflection more than I’d like.

I’m not talking about the hall of mirrors (don’t worry, that theme park metaphor died in the last paragraph), but rather, being at home more than we usually would be. Eighteen months or so in fact, give or take. The quick glance at yourself in the hallway mirror on the way out has grown into the peering at your thumbnail in the corner of every Google hangout to make sure you still look engaged after two hours. The insta pressure to make sure your pals know you’re having a good time 24/7. The scrolling, scrolling and more scrolling before checking your front camera and feeling sad that you don’t have a chance in hell of ever looking like that girl you don’t even know. Told you it was a rollercoaster.

I’ve been told to stop worrying about what I look like, to stop thinking about what others think, and to stop letting my insecurities about my appearance get in the way. Because oh boy, do those insecurities get in the way. And the funny thing is, you and I know they’re not even real. Not really. The only thing giving them life and allowing them to breathe are the big corporations which continue to capitalise off of them. Lips too thin? Plump them. Eye bags too big? Conceal them. Skin not smooth, radiant or youthful enough? You’re going to need at least five different creams. That’ll be £782 please. Imagine if we just stopped buying things the patriarchy told us to buy because we simply don’t need them? Anarchy. 

And yet, even though I know all of this, I still feel that incredible pressure to conform. To fit in. To look a certain way. And sure, a lot of that I do for myself - make up, clothes, hair, skin care etc. - but there is a part of me which does wonder, is it really for me? Or is it just my own internalised male gaze?  I could literally write a whole book on this; the theory that even when we’re alone,  everything we do is subconsciously just to serve the male point of view. A harrowing and depressing thought, but an intriguing one none the less. (For the record, when I’m dressing up at 2pm on a Sunday afternoon to make a Halloween outfit reel, I’m pretty sure that is for me and me alone. No man, or woman tbh, wants to see me in yet another £5 eBay wig.) 

So where do we go from here? Whilst I don’t think there’s really a clear cut and dry answer, I do think awareness is a good starting point. Simply being more conscious of the reasons why you’re doing things and being safely assured in the knowledge that the sole purpose of you and your body extends far beyond what you look like. You’re so, so much more than that. 

It’s been a while since I wrote a proper blog post so please excuse the above tangential ramble (let’s be honest, what’s new?) I’m interested in talking more personally about a couple of things around this topic, body image etc, but always end up chickening out. Do people want to read that kind of thing? If anything, I guess it would be a cheap alternative to therapy for me. 

Anyway, I hope you’re all doing well, keeping safe and staying sane. Sending love xxx

Who is The Real Me?

The world is a strange place. One full of marvellous, exciting and beautiful things, whilst simultaneously consisting of curiosities and contradictions.

Where we're told to embrace our natural beauty and accept our bare skin and yet still be shamed on the front of a magazine cover for daring to leave the house without concealer.

Where curvier and slender frames are adored equally but be too much of one or the other and undergo viscous labelling.

Where you shouldn't dress like a clone but if you don't you'll be outcasted and fall behind this season's trend.

Enter, The Real You Campaign; a project I have been invited to take part in, as well as something which I do and have always felt to be of fundamental importance.

I remember in my early school life being comfortable in who I was, feeling conscious of course, but not in how others viewed me. Seasonal school discos meant channelling Avril Lavigne and Gwen Stefani, and I was 100% confident in my wardrobe choices.

Secondary school begun and so too did the growing of personal insecurities as well as acknowledgement of others around me. Who obviously cared deeply about my everyday conduct/appearance/word that left my lips.. Obviously.

And so followed the introduction of ceremoniously cooking my hair each morning so every hint of wave was diminished, the eyeliner and mascara of which I was ignorant how to apply and of course the constant hesitation prior to every word I said.

The continuous mental assault course in analysing and over analysing everything I did and said in order to create the least upset possible regardless of my actual beliefs.

Putting every ounce of effort into trying to please what I believed to be everybody else's expectations rather than my own.

I am still a work in progress when it comes to caring how others perceive me.

But there is a point, where it suddenly dawns that everyone is so wrapped up in their own problems, they don't care about yours.

The blemish on your nose or your hair that won't sit right today or the fact you should have put on the other shoes to match your jeans.

I find it's not the positive act of doing something but the motivation behind it which makes you question whether or not you're trying to please everyone else and forget yourself.

Yes, I wear make up, but as something to enhance and experiment with, no longer as something I feel I must in order to be accepted.

I eat healthily as well as unhealthily to my own benefit and to my own detriment.

I dress how I want to, based on how I feel when I wake up regardless of what everyone else in the lecture theatre will think.

Coming to terms with the true version of yourself is tricky at first, especially since we're plagued with constant messages and images over how the pieces of our life should fit together, despite the fact that we're all totally different jigsaws. (Can't get enough of these metaphors.)

Moments of doubt do creep in from time to time but The Real You campaign is about abandoning the idea that your characteristics have to fit into this box which society has deemed acceptable. This is about accepting yourself; the unapologetic, undiluted version of yourself and realising you shouldn't have to change for anybody.

So now you've got a better idea of the real me, I'd love to hear about the real You. Whoever that may be, whether it's through a tweet, instagram, tumblr or youtube, let me and everyone else know #therealyou.