it's been awhile since I last wrote, but that doesn't mean I haven't been thinking about you -- that sounds a bit creepy, doesn't it?
Speaking of creepy, I discovered a portrait of myself from 2009 while I was doing some cleaning over the weekend. The source? Some of my old writing, and it's sort of scary just how accurate it is. It captures everything so perfectly, and it looks like I called the Great Feminist Debate long before it was even officially a thing. My unfiltered thoughts as a 28-year-old woman on the verge...
This whole new side of me? I'm not sure it's a side I like. It's bold. It's an "I-don't-care-about-the-consequences" side. When did I become that girl? I'm cautious. I'm a good girl. I most definitely always follow the rules. And yet, here I am. What sort of woman calls herself an independent feminist and mentally analyzes everything? There's this huge disconnect going on here. Maybe I just like the idea of being with someone who makes me feel happy again, who makes me laugh and who lets me just let go for once and not think everything to death. Is that such a bad thing?
[Photos via We Heart It]