The Past isn't Present

(This message, ironically, brought to by 90s images)

We have an weird relationship with the past. The past can be this place where everything seems perfect. Childhood was sweet and weightless, we think. Nothing but bubbles, overalls, and BFF necklaces.

Even the past far beyond our own is constantly romanticized. 

How many times have you thought you were born in the wrong decade or century?

My hair would be perfect for the 80s!

Times were so much simpler 50 years ago!

If only our world was a bit more like Jane Austen’s!

90’s grunge is so me, it's ridiculous!
 
We get this idea of a great, beautiful and (somehow) amazingly simplified past. This image comes from our movies, our music, and (sometimes) older generations themselves wishing they could go back. There’s this desire to go back and soak it all back in. 

Nothings better than being in your early 20s. Than your teens. Than being a kid.

On the other hand there’s another past.

A past that we’re quick to use as a waste basket to throw mistakes in. 

As the popular quote goes: “Don’t judge me by my past, I don’t live there anymore.” 

This kind of past is to be pushed and never looked back on.

It’s like there are two types of past. 

The one we’re okay will reveling in and wish we could call present again. 

The other we accept as “bad” and must reject and separate ourselves from. 

The thing is they’re BOTH past. They’re done and over with. 

Neither of them can un-happen or happen again.

I’m not saying it’s not good to have memories. Have memories! All of them! 

Have good memories, have bad memories. 

Remember these moments just as well as these.

But why make the past up to be this creature that stalks us everywhere we go? 

Why try and make memories time machines or wishing wells?

An even weirder relationship developed between me and the past after I started developing depression. I couldn’t tell who I was anymore. I had always been told I was such a happy person. In fact, that was one of the reasons I denied that I might have depression for so long. That reputation of being hippie and happy. I couldn’t have depression and anxiety! That would, like, ruin the chill vibe I was used to giving off. Finally, when I did admit to being depressed, I still held on to that version of me. I believed that was the only real me. This depressed, anxious me was a phase to get over. I viewed my mental illness more like amnesia. I forgot how to be me, and I just needed to learn again!

I didn’t really recognize that this was how I felt until I happened upon this random text post on Tumblr. I’m not sure who the words originally belonged to, but it said:

“Do me a favor okay?

Stop trying to go back to who you were before. Before you were raped, before you got sick, before an eating disorder took over your life. stop trying to be who you were five, ten, twenty years ago. Before the mental illness took over, before he died, back before your parents split, or you lost your best friend.

You are NOT the same person as before. You never will be again. Give up the idolization of “before” and be who you are now. Be the you AFTER.”

My brain seemed convinced I still was that person I was and that the me now was a past to overcome. I was living life reversed. I tried answering therapy questions as if I was Miranda Circa 2009. It made counseling confusing. “Do you consider yourself a happy person on a scale of 1 to 5, 5 being strongly agree.” I liked to pretend like my current feelings were this hill I was bound to find the other side of at any moment. No need to mention them. I would be myself again.

But I am myself. I was Miranda then, and I am Miranda now. I might have more problems. I might have a harder time finding motivation to get up in the morning or take showers or feed myself. I used to think this made me an inadequate human being.

But I’m still a very human me. High-school-freshman-Miranda might have been better off, but she wasn’t better. I was one soul then, and I am one soul now. My value hasn’t decreased.

I have to make one correction to the above actually. I said I “used” to think I was an inadequate human being and a bunch of other past participles. Truth is there are days and moments I still think those things. I constantly have to remind myself of the truth.

So, while I don’t have to “learn how to be myself again”, I do have to learn how to deal with these new trials. I have to learn how I, Miranda, want to work with my depression and anxiety. And through time that might change. I might find better methods or better medication. I might, maybe, even wake up one day and not have depression. I will, however, always be this soul and body. A completely human and present Miranda.

I often have no idea what I’m doing but this Miranda is gonna live the life she’s got.

Make it up.

I wish there was a make up kit

That made my world look better.

A liquid concealer for the bad days

That break out all over the year.

A good foundation to smooth out 

the rocky roads. 

A powder to soften the blows.

Blush to help it seem young, sweet, and fresh. 

Eye shadow to cover my eyes

From guilt and pain.

A liquid eye liner to make things clearer.

An eyelash curler to make things look up.

A fantastic drug store mascara 

To add a stunning affect to the drab.

And finally:

A bright colored lipstick 

making every moment a bit more fabulous.

Life is beautiful.

But my standards are set too high.

So it could use a little touch up - 

Just a bit more definition -

To help me get by. 

The Yellow Starburst

I recently saw this post on Pinterest that said:

“Girls, don’t let a guy treat you 

like a yellow starburst, 

you are a pink starburst”

I found this funny and adorable of course, but I love yellow starburst. Don’t get me wrong, I get that the message is don’t let someone treat you less than you are, but it got me thinking about a conversation I had with my dad.

I was telling him my concern about finding someone who liked me for who I was, when suddenly a memory came to mind:

About two years ago, when I was still in high school, I remember telling a friend of mine about this exact same concern.

"I'm worried no guy will like me since I'm not the style that guys tend to like."

Her words to me were: “well, maybe you should consider dressing differently then”. 

At first (inwardly) I was angry about what she said. Then this week, after talking to my dad about it, I thought back on her words and realized something honest in what she said. 

If I am truly that concerned and unhappy I really could change. 

It made me realize that I like being a yellow starburst. What I really want is to find someone who accepts my yellow starburst-ness.

I'm a yellow starburst. 

I’m not most guys favorite “flavor”, 

and that's okay.

I just don’t want to pretend or make myself more “pink” in order to find a guy quicker or more conveniently.

So I hope that a guy treats me like the yellow starburst that I am, and never wishes I would just be pink. 

               

Total Disclaimer: I think it is fabulous if your favorite starburst is pink and you feel totally "pink" in your style and way of life. That's awesome! Love being you ;) And that quote at the biggining speaks nothing but truth! Don't let nobody treat you any less then what you are, which is a beautiful human being. 

I am so very ready.

Happiest First Day of Autumn!
Guess who is so beyond ready for sweater weather . . . . . . . That's right THIS girl is!

I seriously can't wait to show off my (quiet) large collection of so called "ugly" sweaters!

I've sort of already started getting ready for the fall even though the lowest it's been is 76° this past week. So for today, here is just a few pics that capture the autumn soul in my clothes.

The Magic of Clothes

                                       


                                

There is a certain magical power putting on clothes. It's like wearing a sketch or journal entry on your body for everyone to see. It can be a part of who you are or who you'd like to be. Certain shirts hold memories or say something about you. The mixture you put together in an ensemble can express your multiplicity better than a phrase ever could. 

Clothes have always been apart of society. Princesses had their "uniforms" just like chimney sweepers and social reformers did. Clothes that said, this is who I am. Eventually there grew this freedom with clothing in society. you no longer were restricted to the one uniform people expected you to wear. You could try on the Hippie or the Business Woman any time you wanted. You can even mix the 2 together! Some might say there are still strong expectations and opinions on how we should dress today. . .and they're right. 

People might look at you and wonder what the Hey-Hey your doing. Them people be Nay-Say-ers.

Dress how you'd like. 

Dress how you are.

Dress how you'd like to be someday.

Dress like a Princess.

Be a Unicorn for a day.

Be Both! 

All the time I get the "you look great, but I could never pull that off". . . um. . . 

A. You don't know till you try

2. Who the Hey-Hey cares if you can't "pull if off" 

III. Make mistakes! Don't be afraid of a failure in fashion, that's how you learn!

The truth of the matter is, you'll back and think you looked stupid not matter what you do!

(Just think of your parents looking back at their high school photos)

You really might as well have fun with it!

P.S. Not to brag, but this unicorn shirt is amazing.

Fashion Blog?

"Are you gonna start a fashion blog?" my roommate asks when I tell her to take a picture of my outfit. 

The truth is I've always wanted to. So, then . . .why haven't I? It's a long string of excuses from my inability with technology to self doubt to questioning if my style is truly fashionable or a lack thereof. But yes, here I am. Trying again to start a "fashion" blog, though I'm not sure that that's the true and proper term for what this blog will be. I'd call it more of a bits of me mod podged on this supposedly simplistic blog sight. Think of it as a Miranda-ized version of Vanity Fair. Though you might be wondering what something looks like when it's "Miranda-ized". Well we'll find out together I suppose.