So this is going to be more like a journal entry, but I need some form of catharsis.
People tease me that I have a shopping addiction and that I have a hard time saving money, and only recently has this become true. I had almost two thousand dollars saved up for a car and now I have a little under a thousand because I became a bit of a shopaholic.
While that may seem cliche, it started out rather strangely. Being in a relationship, I depended on the cheap hope that my boyfriend would spoil me with everything I needed or because he wanted to. I would spoil him whenever I could for whatever, (even the day we broke up, I gave him a pair of shoes I bought him because I liked them for him). You can call me vain and shallow, and on both accounts I am guilty, but I never really went and blew money on myself.
Then one day, I was supposed to go shopping with my friend, but she ditched me and I found myself standing in Victoria’s Secret alone. Now mind you, I hardly shopped here before. I had the yoga pants, a sweatshirt, and that was about the extent. Needless to say, with only some convincing from a sales’ consultant, I spent $98 dollars on myself, on things that my ex would never get to appreciate.
But after that, it became easier to drop large sums of money. God, the manager at PacSun practically knows me by name. And the reason i started shopping there? Because a guy liked their clothes and I liked a guy.
And honestly, my style has evolved, I’m dressing more like what I want and somewhat for me, but not entirely confident. And that has been a blessing through all this. But I realize, as the money dwindles down, that even though I have all these clothes, and I go out to lunch, and I expand on my Alex + Ani bangle collection, they don’t make me more of a person, or better for that matter. These things I bought were just a means to an end to get my mind off things; to prove that I deserved something and could look the part. That it was okay to treat myself every now and then.
But as I’ve grown these past few months, I know it’s cliche, but it’s more than just the clothes that make the person. It’s compassion, selflessness, focus, faith, self-respect, confidence, determination, and a bit of reckless abandon that are making me who I am. I still have my vain moments (because I dress fabulous), and I can be shallow on the clothes front (because I want to look good in a two piece), but I can also say that—
albeit slowly, it’s becoming less about them, and more for me.
This is because though part of you still holds on, it’s not tight enough.
This is because I realize life is the ultimate bittersweet.
This is because I can only grow by letting go.
New clothes won’t fix that. New shoes, hats, intimate apparel, whatever, won’t make me new; won’t help me love myself. And as I’m taking time out to eat healthy, to work out, to write whatever the hell I want, I’m slowly becoming this person that I like. This girl that does not need a him, does not really want a him, anymore. A girl that finally realizes what she deserves.
And it’s not a full closet, but rather something you can’t dress up. It’s a full life, surrounded by love, laughter, and happiness that can be found only within oneself and not on their outer person.
I am growing, you guys. Slowly, but surely toward a brighter, and if my closet does reveal anything, and more colorful future.