Take my room for example...
Sixteen-year old me spent days painting these walls fushia and construction-zone orange while listening to the Hairspray soundtrack over, and over, and over.
Turned out pretty exciting. I think the Tracy Turnblad in me really came through...
Although my decor tastes may have somewhat shifted in the last five years, my dizzily bright room leads me to an important topic: staying yourself.
Don't be afraid of what others will think of you or say about you.
At sixteen, I was by no means aloof, but I definitely didn't care what people thought. I wore what made me feel beautiful and acted the way I wanted, no matter how 'eccentric' it was considered.
Something changed a couple years ago, and I lost that inner edge. That 'honey badger' attitude, if you will. I started to worry about what was 'pretty', what was 'acceptable'. The media told me how to be, and I started to listen.
But now I want it back.
I want that free feeling, that spice for life. I want to wake up and not worry about how thin I am.
Take it from a girl who has spent a surprisingly stupid amount of energy worrying about what others think.
Life is far too short to lose yourself in the shuffle. And if moving home and starting fresh is what it takes to break out of that, I'm down.
I've got a lot of things to sort out, and it's gonna be an adventure finding out exactly where I'll end up. On MY terms.
Plus, I've got a room to repaint.