WHAT WOMEN WANT is to not be perfect.

Well, hello.

To my expansive fanbase, welcome back.

I guess this is truly more of a welcome back to myself. 

I am back, and calmer than ever. After a hiatus, quite a long one, I am finally feeling ready enough to begin writing again. I had a wonderful, majestic, summer-as I usually do-but one that was filled with its own curious tribulations and necessary growing pains.

In fact, I feel as if I should modify my last statement-yes, my summer was wonderful and majestic, but it was also quite hard. Being back with family makes me feel as if I am reverting back into a role that no longer fits me, turning back into the seventeen year old girl who was angry, untamed, and unstable. And I’m sure you can grasp an idea of the thoughts and emotions that travel alongside this. 

Anyways, that is a story for another time. 

The takeaway is, I am feeling good. Great, even. And I am feeling like this new outlook I have adopted (at least for this moment, who knows when it will change), has empowered me to freely write about what I actually like.

When I first began writing this blog, it wasn’t even a blog. It was a journal. I was in one of the darkest places of my life last fall, and, as I am not one who is good with talking, I began to write. Without fear, pressure, or wit.

I did it because I had to.

However, as I began to heal, and continued to write, I started to feel a pressure. And those young gifted kids out there may relate to me on this one; I felt like I couldn’t put out anything if it wasn’t perfect. 

Who would want it? Who would care about it? And if nobody cares about what I create, if nobody cares about me, then what is even the fucking point. 

This is a struggle that many people-mostly women-deal with. It is not often I find a man who is self critiquing anything about himself, besides maybe his height or body count, but absolutely not any of the work he does. Whoever doesn’t like what they’ve done, is simply just wrong.

I often think of this quote from Hilary Clinton whilst considering this topic-”It’s always surprising to me how many young women think they have to be perfect. I rarely meet a young man who doesn’t already think he is.”

And this is where, for one of the first times in my life, I thought that maybe men had something a little bit right. 

Not that we should assume that everything we do is perfect, and without room for critique, but more the notion of-just do it with the confidence that it is.

 Or could be. Or isn’t at all and never will be but who fucking cares?

Why was I holding myself, and therefore limiting myself, to such specific standards? Standards that to anyone else would seem ridiculous, unachievable, or just plain random?

So, here I am. Back, imperfect, but ready to write. 

It feels liberating to accept my faults, and not think to fix them.

So, come along on my journey of being mediocre.

(But also keep in mind I am not completely like a man and am totally open to any and all (respectful if it’s not too horrible to ask) critique)

Best.