Fashamorphosis: May 2017

May 21, 2017

A year and a half - that's how long ago the rest of my life started. The plan was to cleanse myself of Las Cruces, of the country bars and house parties and empty strip malls and soul-sucking pale landscape.

The day I left, I regained feeling in my body. Happy tears in my eyes. Butterflies in my stomach at the absolute uncertainty of adult life and all of its opportunities. I know how dramatic it sounds, don't worry. But Cruces tore me down and the day I was out was one of the best days of my life. I regained a sense of gratitude for this vast world and the people and places it houses. And here I am, a small fragment of this world, somehow making it work in this crazy big city - and for a second, I forget how lucky I am.

For a second, the backlit palm trees and vibrant streets lose their charm. My support system - my loving better half, my continuously encouraging family - mean nothing as I focus on the one thing not going right in my life among 1,000,000 positives.

Not today, Satan! Today I bask in the sunshine and slap on some color and I bite the heck back.

Because life's too short to sweat the small stuff.

Because I promised myself I'd never be a passive spectator.

Photos by Aidan Bradbury-Aranda

earrings: gifted

sunglasses: Warby Parker

dress: Charlotte Russe

slip-ons: Madden Girl

bag: Rebecca Minkoff

Thanks for reading/skimming/stalking.

May 18, 2017

I'm engulfed in them to the point of restlessness. Visions of wanderlust and written words and spoken words and read words and fabrics and the outdoors and the split second of fear and uncertainty when the plane takes off and the knowledge that when you get off, for a moment, you can be whatever you want to be.

These replay in my mind when I try to catch the stupid breath that's been failing me for weeks. How can my lungs be full of so many dreams and plans? How can they hold in so much youthful optimism, but when I push to release it all, what comes out is stagnant and uninspiring?

I want to be out there experiencing life. I want to tell stories. I want to dissect beautiful minds layer by layer and share their knowledge with the world.

I want to live without the fear of tomorrow. I want my breath to slowly fill me in with oxygen. I want to remember what life before anxiety was like. I want a sign - that this is where I'm meant to be.