The F*ck It Year.

One of my most favourite things to talk about is the “optics of success” and how we tend to see, and be shown only certain parts of people. We see their successes and impresses, less so their distress (alliteration baby).

And this little “know-it-all”‘ thought she had it down pretty good…being fully herself publically- until it hit me. I’m still playing the mutha effin’ game, just in a more sneaky way. I’m showing you my badassery, but it’s still only an “optic” of myself.

So I’m gonna try, to really try this year to remove all filters.

Less edits.
Less worry.
Less questions.
Less trying to be fascinating.
Less trying to reach more people.
Less trying to succeed.
Less planning and scheming.
Less trying to be good (although that’s an ironic title) I still try so fucking hard.

I do this I suppose, because, like yoga teachers hate their bodies and therapists are all crazy, I’m fascinated with the “mask” we wear to be loved. And I think my job is to take mine off, which will hopefully interest you in taking yours off and then our ugly mugs can just get down in it together.

Who’s in?