If you've ever told yourself one of these stupid sentences «I can't do that, everone will...
1.laugh at me
3.think I'm a poseur
4. stop talking to me
5. call me names
Then welcome to the club of the people who care too much about the people who don't matter and their opinions.
I was practically the president of this club. I lived my life by what people thought of me, by their expectations, and keeping up with that act tore me to shreds.
I couldn't walk into a store and buy candy, i had to pretend that I was buying for a friend, in fear that the cashier thought I was a crazy binge eater-which in fact, I was.
And ordering a fast food dish at a restaurant? THE MOST EMBARRASSING THING I COULD EVER DO!!!EVER!!!!
So my clothes, my hair, my activites, basically my life was run by what I wanted people to see. It was a demanding job, and I was quite convincing. I'm surprised I haven't been nominated for an Oscar yet. Meryl Streep? Please..does she keep it up 24/7? I think not!
I fell so hard into my act that I lost myself completely, and all I had left was a shadow of a person, an image, a character. So where did the real me go?
When I got out of the hospital, one of my main goals was to stop caring about what everyone said or thought, and just be me.
Turns out, it's a lot of fun.
So here is my little challenge for you, my fudgies: Do something you always wanted to do, but you were afraid of people's reaction. It could be the silliest little thing, like wearing crazy earrings you think are really cute, but your friends might not, or try out for a big role in a play.
What I did? I cut close to 30 cm off my hair!
Everyone always said that guys liked longer hair, that you look better with longer hair, long hair, long hair, blablablabla...enough!
I wanted to be a bad-ass, like Cherie Currie from the Runaways, and so off with the hair.
So this is what I look like...ahaha no jk one day my hair will fall perfectly into that position.
But sometimes it gets relatively close. :)
So here is the before shot, on the left (which is 6 months before I cut it, so you can imagine the dread-filled mane I had grown in December!), and the after, a very elaborate 1920s picture for the first ever promo FP, seen here (don't mind the bra strap. I have no worthy explanation)
So if any of you decide to take a leap of faith, let me know by email or twitter:)