If you have died black hair, spike it like Billie Joe Armstrong, wear eyeliner and walk around like you are about to break out in song, wearing a Green Day shirt catapults the look into the abyss of the pathetic. Strutting it in a grocery store in the middle of Spudookie-ville completes the advertising that you are a wanna-be groupie from the hills of losers.
I admit I have a tendency towards being brash. I think the word obnoxious is more accurate. I actually thought it was a compliment for most of my life due to how often I heard it.
I like colors. Once I had a orange and turquoise office. I accented it with cobalt blue and yellow, to create balance.
I like to laugh. Loudly, I guess. I don't really know. But I sometimes get funny looks. Not always from strangers.
I like red lipstick. But I am not very slick at the art of make-up-ery (that's a word right?) So whenever I wear bright lipstick I end up looking ill. And I usually smear it.
This is how I feel
This is how I look
As a women it seems like we are always looking for balance. Always looking to be beautiful. Always looking to fit a role. To define ourselves perfectly. And awe the world.
When my uh energetic personality combines with my over the top exuberance, the lesson of subtleties is a hard one. I am a work in progress.
Occasionally, I will run into "Billie Joe Armstrong" in the grocery store and it makes me reflect on my own attempts at finding my place.
I take a deep breath. Determine to rest, to like me, and to stop trying so darn hard.
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