It took me quite a while to write this entry. Mostly because I didn’t want to sound like I was hatin’ on some people and partly because I wasn’t really all that sure what I wanted to say. This post kept nagging me, though. Kept pulling from the corner of my mind, kept banging into my frontal lobe. It wanted out so I’m letting it out.
There was a phase in my life that I was obsessed with fashion bloggers. I had my Bloglovin’ account and I’d check it everyday (sometimes more than once a day). It started when I found a blog about nail polish (yes, nail polish) then it evolved into looking at chictopia and lookbook.nu and then finding fashion blogs. They were all so pretty and the clothes were so pretty and their hair was so pretty and…you get the drift. I’m an obsessive personality so when I get into something, I reaaaally get into it. There was a point where I could tell you where ____ went that weekend or what top _____ was wearing or where ______ got her earrings. Crazy, yes? I was that way for a month or two. Bloglovin’ occupied hours of my time. Okay, nothing sensational or though-provoking there.
But then my compulsion to buy stuff came around almost the same time as my obsession was at its peak. I’d pester my mom to go to bazaars with me or to take me to Megamall. I’d spend hours just going around the mall and looking at all the things I couldn’t buy and all the things I did buy. Now, this may sound like a typical teenage girl (ok fine I’m 22) but it isn’t a typical me. I was never into shopping. NEVER. I like shopping for my mom or my brother or my friends (gifts and stuff), but for me? Why bother? Mom used to buy my clothes for me, well into my college years. Ukay-ukay? Never really stepped foot in it until I read about fashion bloggers and their ukay skills (though the ukay thing started before this obsessive thing started. Kagulo timeline).
It had to tie in somehow. The buying, the reading, the buying, the coveting. It was a vicious cycle. For someone as hyper-aware of myself as I am, I knew there was something not right. Then it hit me.
The reason for all the buying was because I wanted to be like those fashion bloggers (epiphany kablam). Of course I’m not as skinny nor as adept at styling so I just kept buying and reading and buying and coveting. And it was doing some serious damage to my self-esteem.
I hesitate to go on because I’m a proud person and I don’t like admitting weakness but for the sake of inner peace and this monster of an entry, I shall continue.
As the days went on, I stopped being content with just reading about the bloggers. I had to do what they did or wear what they had or be skinny like them. My self-esteem was shot to hell. Now, every time I clicked on an entry, all I felt was envy. I was so envious of their life and their freebies and their fashion. It was emotionally draining. I didn’t feel like me anymore. I felt shallow and empty and lost. So, I stopped.
I forgot what it was that made me stop. It could’ve been the recent typhoon or my exams. I’m not too sure. Don’t think I’m the paragon of self-control or anything. I was just probably busy. But as soon as I stopped, I never went back. I realized that my energy was being sucked out from my body, through my eyes and into my laptop monitor. I didn’t want to feel envious anymore. I wanted to be happy for them and happy for me.
I’m still getting there, the whole contentment thing. Maybe that’s why I wrote this entry. To finally be content. To let out all my frustrations and all my BV’s. I don’t want to be BV anymore. And so, I stopped.
Through this whole thing I came to a conclusion that what you read (see or consume) really does affect how you feel. Reading things that inspire you or make you feel happy should be no.1 priority. Stop reading things that make you angry or envious or unhappy. Read things that remind you of who you are.
And so, I started looking for blogs that inspire me instead of make me feel worse about myself. I came across a blog of one of my acquaintances. She’s a friend of a friend whom I think I’ve met before (at least she looks familiar to me). Hannah’s blog makes me happy, inspires me, and makes me root for her. I hope I find my passion like she did and make others happy. Just a little sunshine I thought I’d share after the ominous cloud I hovered over you readers.
Again, I’m not saying reading fashion blogs is bad. No no no. I love them and I love what they’re doing. I just don’t feel like they are right for me. My point is (finally a point!) stop doing things that make you hate yourself and find things that make you love again. You are in control of how you feel. Don’t just react to things and blame them for it. Make a change for the better and do what you love, what makes you happy.
I still love fashion, clothes, styling, etc. But I get my fix somewhere else (ahem Rachel Zoe). I have my buying compulsion down a bit and have refrained from going crazy. It’s all good.
So, here’s me. Finishing off this beast of an entry and hoping I got my point across without hitting someone. It just needed to be written and so it is.