My Actual Face

Today is the day I feel that I should post a picture where you can actually see my face.

My whole face.

Because as much as anonymity on the internet is good and fun and freeing, I'd like to become a little more honest and vulnerable and put my face up on here.

Of course, it's so easy with pictures to distort and filter and edit what you really look like. In the interest of honesty and vulnerability, these pictures have no filters, no edits, and in most I'm not wearing any makeup. This is me. Complete with all my imperfections. If anybody was wondering … this is the girl behind the blog.

First, some older pictures:

And a few I took just this morning--no makeup, still in PJs and messy hair. Let's keep it real here.

Feeling slightly self-conscious,

Angel

P.S. A note on hair: My hair in the past year has been brown, natural, purple, and bleach blonde. It's kind what happens. My natural hair colour is in the first photo (with a few lighter highlights) and is a dark ash blonde. My roots look REALLY dark in the last photo because of the lighting and also the fact that they're in contrast to such light hair. In case anyone was really curious. 

How I've Changed

{No, this is not a photo of me begging for spare coins. Just to clarify.}

Recently I've been doing a lot of thinking about how I've changed.
This isn't something I like to do as a rule. I'm scared of change, or more specifically, the idea of change. Once change happens and is happening it's not always too bad. But thinking about change, contemplating change, gives me a nervous feeling deep in my stomach. I'm not really sure why. Maybe because I'm deeply nostalgic--I'd rather be 8 than 18 any day--or maybe because I worry too much about all the ways things could go wrong. Either way, I spend too much time running through all the best bits of the past and not enough time hoping for the future, or even enjoying the present.

But back to myself changing. Obviously I know every minute I'm alive, every tiny choice I make is changing me in imperceptible ways. But I really started to notice the change in myself this year. Because I'm now going to school instead of being homeschooled. Because I made actual friends at school this year. Because in some ways I don't want actual friends at school because around them I'm different, and not a good different. I'm outgoing, sarcastic, sometimes probably even a little bit mean, ditzy, and annoying in school. And I. Hate. It.

But I don't want to spend this post discussing all the ways I've changed this year. That makes me want to throw up the approx. 762 Coffee Crisp Bites I have consumed today. {Side note: these are a Canadian thing and if you haven't tried them I'll just say they are probably laced with some sort of nasty ass chemical to make them illegally addicting}

I want to spend this post talking about the things that make me feel like myself again. Which are:

1. Being Alone
I guess this one is rather self explanatory, but there's something about being by myself, not having to try and impress anyone or talk or anything, that just is calming. It's almost like spending quality time with a close friend--except that friend is you. It makes sense. To me. Right me? I agree. With myself.

2. Reading
Reading a good book takes me to far away lands where I can find myself through other's adventures. I can zone everything else out while reading and forget about the outside world to focus on the inner. It's great. If I could only do one thing for the rest of my life, I'd read.

3. Writing
When I get into bed with too many thoughts and/or emotions flooding my brain, the first thing I reach for is my journal. As a rule, I am not an emotional person, which is why my entries can skip months and even years. But when I really need to clear my head, nothing does it like writing. Journaling or otherwise. You are my therapy, blog.

4. Spending Time With Certain Friends
There are a few friends in my life who centre me when I spend time with them instead of sending my spiralling out of control. I know this kind of seems against #1...but it isn't. People are paradoxes, myself included.

5. Settling Down With Some Homework
Hah.  Hah hah. I'm a nerd. I don't even deny it. I like to do homework, provided 2 things are in place: 1) a nice desk space with all my stuff spread out neatly, and 2) I know exactly what to do for the homework. It makes me feel productive and, well, smart.

6. Just Being Outside
I love being outside. My lazy butt does not like getting there, however, so I don't spend as much time out and about as I'd like. However, nothing is more calming then looking up at a great blue sky or smelling fresh grass after a rain or feeling the sun kiss your face.

7. Art/Being Creative
This is something I've really neglected. Really. Super. Neglected. I don't think I've drawn anything in almost a year. And I used to be really good (for my age) when I was younger and I feel like I've squandered my talent because of countless hours on 9gag <---curse you

8. Playing Piano
I could say music in general, but violin stresses me out way to often and makes me want to hit things. Playing piano puts a voice to emotions when even my words fail me. I love to play and sing. Unfortunately I have a horrible sounding voice, so I limit my performances to when no-one else is home. Still, I'm glad I'm resuming piano lessons again next year.

That's all I can think of for now. I seriously need to spend more time doing these things.

Maybe I should pledge to do at least 1 of these things per day. Though I am always alone, play piano, and usually do homework (SAT PREP YAY YAY YAY *sobs*) every day. And usually when I pledge things like this, they don't work out. We will see. We will see.

This post was supposed to be on change. Talking about the things that bring me back to myself isn't really change. But in order to recognize change, you must first look back at the way things were--or the way you were.

A parting thought that might terrify you/challenge you/inspire you, and perhaps all three:

If your 12 year old self met you now, what would they think of you?

Let me know in the comments your answer to that question.

Angel

Once Upon a Time

Once upon a time there was a small girl.
She had long, wavy, perfect golden hair that reached down her legs, wide hazel eyes and a bright face.
She was on the quieter side, but did not shy away from talking. She was smarter than her years and had a sarcastic sense of humour. And she loved to read. She would read for hours at a time, sit with a stack of books and not leave her chair for a whole afternoon. There was nothing more exciting than exploring so many different worlds. She would read every day, everywhere, every single book in the bookshelves in her house and then from the library. She never stopped reading, and when she wasn't reading she was daydreaming. Or drawing. Or writing her own stories.
This girl had a powerful imagination. She didn't mind sitting in a room with nothing to do. She would imagine stories about the people passing by and the pictures on the walls and what she would do if she could fly. Her least favourite time was lying in bed, not asleep, but thinking of all the horrible ways she could be killed by the horrible things surely lurking in her room. She had trouble falling asleep for years, but it was balanced out by the wonderful things she could daydream of at other times.
This girl was me, if you hadn't already guessed. Or you could say I was that girl. And some days it almost feels like I'd like to be her again. I miss my imagination. I like to think that it's still with me, just off in a dusty corner of my mind, unused and bored maybe, a little rusty and depressed from lack of use. But just waiting for the day when I decide to use it again, to let it roam free over the uneven landscape of my brain, to spin stories and thoughts and ideas and songs in the most beautiful of ways.
This blog is going to be about bringing my imagination back. But not just that. I also feel a need to tell my story, the story of my life and how I came to where I am now. Lately I've been feeling like I'm living a teenage novel, you know the ones about high school drama and situations where you think: "How on earth did I get myself into this?"
The first thing I'm going to do to start myself on this journey is this simple rule: only one hour of internet time a day. No more, less if I want. I think it will help me to find new things to do with my time, more creative things perhaps.
So if you're at all curious, and want to hear a story of how an imaginative little girl grew up … well, follow along. It's not perhaps the most exciting tale, but maybe it deserves a chance to really be heard.
<3 Angel