Oops, I Didn't Again

"Sally, you haven't written in a while."

These words come to me from stage husband and true friend, Coran Jones. After months of little contact, this reassures me that Coran is one of my blog's biggest fans. One Christmas, I remember minimising the amount of paragraphs and instead filled my blog with photos and funny captions. Coran mentioned this and told me he preferred my stories, that I wrote in a way he admired.

I'm sure it didn't help that my photography is dire.

In actual fact, I have written. I worked tirelessly on one draft, felt it inadequate, then began another. I failed to formulate cohesive ideas, talking about personal choices my friends have made. I couldn't bring myself to post the drafts; they felt like the ramblings of a lost girl.

I've been lost for a while. I often feel overwhelmed while simultaneously bored. I waste time, I complain about the things I have to do, and yet I feel I'm behind on what I want to do. In reality, this discrepancy is because the things I have to do have nothing to do with the things I want to do. Moreover, I don't get paid for the things I want to do, so I have to do the things I have to do. Feelings of inadequacy stem from this and grow in spurts, solidifying an oak of anxiety.

What's worse? People assume I'm free. Because of my relaxed schedule, they eat away at my free time and corrode my consistency. By accommodating others' schedules, I show little respect for my own plans, and shine light on the fact that I've stopped planning. Constantly putting my needs on the back burner is getting them overcooked and mushy.

I feel burnt out.

Opinions

"Don't worry about what other people say; you do you!" 

These are some of the most caustic words I've heard in my life. Yes, I think it's important that people develop themselves and find their "thing", but when my thing has become a grey-wash of confusion, I think it's time to revisit this altogether. There's something nice about catering to other people. There's a beauty to dressing up for a wedding, to wearing your Sunday best on Sundays, and to spruce up your interview apparel. I was so certain that my dog-walking, bicycle-riding, wild aura was fantastic and captivating, but in the end I felt misunderstood among new people. Catering to others and the social norms we live in is actually doing myself a favour. I resultantly feel more accepted, therefore appreciated.

-from the girl who can never get anything fashion-related right.

I decided to get a few groups of friends to help me pick out a new wardrobe, help with song interpretation, and help tailor my social profiles (online). I am now attempting to tell you how confusing this became. Shall we begin with my wardrobe? One friend picked two dresses as her favourites, the other condemned those same two dresses. Both friends I've known over 7 years, and yet they have conflicting ideas on what my sense of style is and can be.

Let's take another example. I send a powerful singing demo to three friends, two of which are like, "Yes, girl! You do you!" The third respondent provided a biting lesson on acting through song, guiding me through basic techniques to get me to a different place emotionally. It was a very hard pill to swallow, coming from a friend who has consistently given me positive feedback. 

My public profiles are even more egregious. My friends and I held wonderful debates on how relaxed or professional I ought to be on these different platforms. How concise my bios should be. What type of stuff I should post. Whether I should focus primarily on my art or include my whole being (for instance, should I share political views on Twitter?). 

On Instagram, I'm meant to be bolstering my "girl next door" look, but likewise need to be completely structured. One friend pointed out two photos that really made me look polished. One was directly after a shower (so my hair did not have to face the elements as of yet), when I had perfectly set my curls, placed a filter on it, and cropped the background out; the other was when I had a 2-hr makeover and professional photographer.... so....

The everyday Sal would never flourish to this friend's standards.

Perhaps some of you are saying, "Sally, come on... this is perfect proof that you should just care about your own opinion." I still disagree. I remember going to see some old acquaintances in my tevas. I thought it didn't matter, until I saw them glance down at my feet, their smiles faltering slightly in the process. This is just a small example, yes, but these petty details are what makes the difference of someone feeling comfortable or uncomfortable around new people. When going out in a dress, not only do I feel fancier, I feel more respected. There is no limit to the affect your clothing can have on passersby or close friends. I am ashamed to be a part of this society, and yet I feel a resolve to subscribe more heartily to this. By understanding and engaging in these flock behaviours, I am making myself more pleasing on a base level, so people are free to get to know me without silly distractions, like double-taking my velcro shoes.

Moreover, some opinions I readily take, when they align with my gut. When Coran implored that I write more, he gave me the permission to hash out ideas and dish them out as needed; I wanted this platform to be more entertaining, he wanted it to be more enriching. I'm so glad he encouraged me towards the latter.

But here, have a photo and caption!

With my Pack