BY: OLYVIA YOUNG
The want and need to please has taken over how I function, on more than one occasion. I feel weight on my shoulders, To be everyone else’s version of myself rather than the unedited reality. I have been haunted by the need to reach perfection. Instead of wearing printed pants with a pink top, I wear pull on jeans and a T-shirt. Instead of saying I really liked the controversial show at NYFW, I agree with the crowd and dismiss it as unoriginal. But why? Why not own up to having my own taste? Why carry around the guilt of being unable to enjoy my own opinion? We all fall into this cycle of agreement. The toxic and manipulative hate that others carry, leaks into our own creativity. Each of us is telling our evolving story through what we wear, creating movements instead of styles. But with this energy, we all possess a strong responsibility to be our true selves. And yet, so often I have fallen short of the task. I started the eighteenth year of my life in a new and uncomfortable state of existence. My closet became my enemy as I tried to ignore the garment I held dear, in exchange for trendy purchases that fit the norm. My favorite pieces swayed alone on their hangers, as they were cast aside. Their l oneliness hurt me too. I looked at my favorite clothing, unworn for weeks and realized why I had exiled them to fashion purgatory. I realized I had simply talked myself out of wearing the clothes I loved because I was utterly terrified that someone would have a problem with it. Why? If it was my style, if it represented me, why change? My answer always came back to fear. A toxic voice moved into my mind and suddenly external opinions mattered more to me than my own. I was a vessel for the ideas of others, and a shell of my own individuality.
Measure Magazine
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