When people ask me about things that have changed over the years, there are times it completely throws me off. You would think people would be asking about my married life, my pups, my job, my mental health, my house, basically any of the things people regularly deal with on the daily.
But nope, my physical appearance is the one people have zeroed in on and byGod they're holding true.
"You're so thin!" Happens when you go from a size sixteen to zero.
"How many tattoos do you even have now?" All of them and then some.
"That's not appropriate to wear out." I don't care, I'm f*cking wearing it.
I don't know when or why people started getting super comfortable with commenting on someone's appearance. It's happened for as long as I can remember, and while I've always tried to be the best person I can, I'm not perfect and I'm sure I'm guilty of it myself when I was younger. It's easy to get sucked in and worry yourself with other's opinions on your body... hair... clothes... appearance in general.
I expect that shit from a teenager... I don't like it and hope they too grow out of it... but y'all bitches out there in the universe are grown. Just walking around trying to passively aggressively tell someone you don't like how THEY look to YOU.
F*cking kill yourself, Troy.
I used to really care about other people's opinions. So much so that my cousin likes to tell me I'm a "people pleaser" and she's not entirely wrong. I lived, looked like, worked, and talked a certain way for a very long time because I was worried about the perception of me that people would have. I didn't want whatever someone thought about me to reflect poorly on my mother. Honestly, I didn't want to see the disappointment in her eyes and other peoples opinions concerning that to hurt her in any kind of way. I wanted to be a shield. I mean, if I was good enough, and looked good enough, and if I did everything that was expected of me, surely no one could be negative, right?
I held this mindset for over thirty years.
And you know what I learned? I learned that no matter how hard I tried, or what I did, or how right I tried to make it, it was never enough.
Not good enough. Not sparkly enough. Not determined enough. Not complicit enough. Just never enough of anything.
It was exhausting and confusing and honestly, unnecessary. I was so concerned about what other people thought of me, I never stopped to consider if I liked me. I was never comfortable and I thought that was normal. It was easy to chalk it up to, "this is just me and how I am."
Except it wasn't me and it wasn't mandatory I be that way. Any certain way really. Like an amazing epiphany (and countless talks with my husband) came all at once and one day I was ok being me. Whatever that meant.
If I thought it, I said it. If I felt it, I made it known. If I was comfortable in it, I wore it.
And if I didn't want to do it or it made me uncomfortable or it was too overwhelming? NOPE. Not for me. Thank you, come again next time.
I'm so happy being whole-heartedly and unapologetically me. That's all I've ever wanted out of life. I've never wanted fancy, or extravagant, or overwhelming. Just... simplistic happiness.
"Look how overgrown your grass is!" I f*cking like nature and don't want to be surrounded by manicures.
"You live like white trash!" Blame it all on my roots... I'm not even sorry.
"Pajamas are NOT appropriate public wear!" Says f*cking who?
Once I became comfortable with the fact not everyone, maybe even no one, was gonna agree with how I looked, acted, talked, approached life... it became easier to just keep going with it. I realized life is short and unpredictable and it was far too much to not live it the way I saw fit. No one was living their lives by my standards so why on earth was I taking opinions on the way I live mine into consideration? It had been that way for so long, why hadn't I questioned it? In fact, I didn't even realize I was doing it. It was almost like I was conditioned a certain way and one day the f*cking levee just collapsed.
I used to be so good at compartmentalization. If I didn't want to deal with something, or feel something, I simply blocked it out and shoved it deep down in the pit of my stomach where it belonged. Out of sight, out of mind, right? If you ignore it, it will all go away. I had no issue with it. Life would sock me on the chin and I'd take the hit, shake it off, and proceed on.
After Momma, that shit went right out the window. My mental health was so fragile, it felt like it took everything to keep myself any which way together. Even to this day, I can't control my emotions. My mental health is an ever-revolving door of anxiety and debilitating emotional trauma. Call me weak or dramatic all you want, but I truly cannot get a handle on it. If I feel it, I feel it right then and I feel it until I get it taken care of. There is no easy fix or shortcut. I can no longer compartmentalize and all those things I pushed down and away throughout my entire life? I get to feel and deal with them all. They all bubbled to the surface and now I get to fight the battles of my ten year old self at two in the morning for no f*cking reason. Good times.
"You need to do something about your crazy hair." I stopped using heat and like my lion mane.
"It's not very ladylike to be covered in tattoos." Yeah, well it's also not hard to be hit in the mouth with a brick.
"Do you really think that's a good look for you?" dO You REallY ThiNk thaT'S A gOOd LoOk FOR yoU?
When you break it down in that way, you realize all the little things like people's opinions are just that... their opinions. What they say or do or how they think of me, no more affects my life than my opinion does on theirs.
And even if they're somehow allowing my everyday life to affect them, that's not my issue. I did not agree to live my life by anybody else's set of rules or guidelines. I didn't agree to live for them and not myself. I didn't agree to listen to their rules and ideations and conform to their standards. Terms and Conditions, my ass.
"You always said you would never." Yeah, I talk alot of shit.
I know I'm different than I used to be. I had to be. I feel like my entire life has been a never-ending cycle of fight or flight and it's exhausting. The fact that my own mind can overwhelm me to the point of debilitating nothingness is frightening. So yes, I am different. Because I had to learn how to take the person I was and merge that with the person I became so that I could be whole again.
And here I am.
I look different, feel different, and treat people different.
I'm thirty-four years old... I lost the woman I had been closest to and taken care of at twenty-eight... I got married... I lost my pup of twenty years... my family and my husband's family went through a trial of losing many family members and friends in a short span of time... the world lived through a pandemic... I had all my teeth removed from my head and a plate put in... my husband had two surgeries within a year and has ongoing health issues... my two pups have health issues... I was in a carwreck... my husband and I were attacked by a hobo... did no one think change was inevitable?
Everything about my life and my health and my appearance has changed. Dramatically, I'll give you that... but still, it's all changed.
I'm not the same me... but I am still Katie. The truest form of her. I say inappropriate things and make sarcastic jokes... I have the awfulest dance moves and a bum hip... my hair is wild and I'm covered in colorful tattoos... I work hard and play harder... and when I love, I love with everything I got.
So yeah... everything looks different because it is. There's no secret or trick. There's no game or conspiracy. Things simply just look different... well... because they are.
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