And that’s exactly what it reminded me of, how I had to force a smile and pretend nothing was wrong when all I wanted to do was crack open the powder bag of my emotions and spill it all over the table.
It felt like everyone could see right through me, as if they knew my box of tricks was as low as the flour in the bag, and I was so wretched that I could barely stand myself, let alone hope that someone else would accept me in my wretchedness.
But I did it, I kept up the facade of being something I wasn’t, and I was laughed at and mocked behind my back. Somehow, it felt easier to keep up the act and take the abuse, than it did to actually drop the mask and tell everyone the truth.
Or worse – feel nothing.
I had a choice – I could break free and become who I was or cower in fear that I hadn’t the guts to embrace me, and be the same as the flawed meagre flour in a shoddy powder bag. It wasn’t much of a decision I had to make at the moment, considering how scared I was, and that it had become easier being someone else.
But the alternative still beckoned, and I wondered how I would ever be able to let go of this safe facade and face who I was, or who I wanted to become. It wasn’t an easy path, it wasn’t even one with a guaranteed pot of gold, but it still seemed more inviting to me than staying a fraud.
So I slowly, louis vuitton outlet gradually, started putting back together the real me piece by piece. As I allowed myself to start accepting me – flaws and all – it was as if I was slowly coming back to life. My thoughts became brighter, my dreams bigger, and I was able to share more of me and my passions with the world.
Yet sometimes it’s still daunting to just ‘be’, replica bags especially with life’s distractions, obligations, fears and self-doubt. Questions arise – Do I deserve it? Am I enough? Is this really the right path for me? But I just take a deep breath and remind myself that I’m here now, with hopefully more courage than that flour in a powder bag, and that I can make it. I sometimes slip up, of course, as there’s an inclination to stuff the real me away and just put on a show, but I get up the next day and start again.
These days I frequently ask myself whether what I’m doing, wearing or saying is a true reflection of me. Even if the answer is ‘no’, I’ll take a chance and figure it out from there. I figure experiment, try and fail, and then try again until I get more comfortable in my own skin.
In the end, I know that the power to become a brand of the real me is in the way I think and the actions I decide to take. I’ve been told it’s a sign of wisdom to know there are many versions of ourselves, and continuously question which one better suits who we are today.
It’s been a while since I’ve had to pretend I was something I wasn’t. Whenever I’m uncertain or even in a bind, I tend to look at it like, “What would the real me do here?” and follow that. It’s simple but it works, and I’m so glad I decided not to be so fake, like that flour in a powder bag.
I also try to choose the path over what I call ‘flatness’ — doing something because it’s easier and lowkey but not necessarily authentically yours. Sure, along the way I stumble and sometimes fail, but at least I’d rather be stumbling and failing doing something real. Because when I think of the aftertaste of faking it all, I’d rather take a big sip of reality than living with something so bland and tasteless.