I Don’t Like Dressing Up

I can’t tell you why, but I’ve always hated dressing up. I didn’t even like pajama day in preschool—I wore sweatpants and a sweatshirt. For me, there’s something uncomfortable about pretending to be somebody I’m not. Maybe my psyche just isn’t on board with, or maybe that’s just a story I like to tell myself.

Over the years, I’ve been pretty good at recognizing my insecurities, getting to their root causes, and abolishing them. This is one I just can’t shake. I’ve tasked my psychologist girlfriend at trying to figure out why I hate it. She can’t figure it out yet either. Regardless, Halloween and I don’t do well together.

So I don’t know where the insecurity of dressing up comes from, but I know there’s one effective way to deal with it: don’t dress up, stay home, and give out candy to trick-or-treaters. Though this is a short-term solution, it’ll work for the time being. There may be some FOMO and some missed laughs, but in this instance I’ll choose self care over doing something I don’t want to do.

Happy Halloween, I guess.

My Future Self

From January to July of this year, I wore a man bun. I kept the sides short and the top long because I wanted to, not because it was functional, easy to manage, or looked good. I wanted to. Long ago I vowed to not pay any attention to other people’s opinions. This is my life and I’m going to live it how I want, whether that means growing a man bun or doing yoga in the grass. My life and my terms.

I cut off my bun in July—I was ready for a change. Now, when I look back at pictures during my man-bun phase, I can’t believe how stupid I looked. The bun was pretty weak and I took way to long in between touch-ups. I looked silly and out of place, confused by whether I wanted to have long hair or be an athlete. Next time I grow my hair out, I’ll grow all of it out, not just the top.

But this has me thinking: I know I don’t care about other’s opinions, but when my future self casts judgement and blame, why do I listen? Who am I, really, if I’m constantly changing? Is my future self myself or is that another person, drastically and unequivocally different from who I am right now? If we’re serious about not caring about what other’s think, should that include ourselves, too?

Maybe we can learn from ourselves without judging ourselves. Maybe we can look at our past selves and love the person who became who you are right now. Maybe we can recognize that our future selves will want to look with distain on who you are now, but we are the one who can stop the judgement in its tracks.

Radical self love, now and in days to come. Learning from my past without judging it. Being who I am while loving who I was. This is what I want to be.