january blues

1/19/2025

the other day i was feeling…off. i could blame my period and let the misogynists win, but really most of it was just due to me feeling insanely cooped up and restless. usually i love winter break because it’s a month of socially acceptable laziness. sleeping until noon, showering only when i have to, making my pajamas look socially acceptable for the rare journey in public usually reserved for shopping or groceries. but this year i’ve been living with my best friend; i was experiencing symptoms of withdrawal. this paired with the task of finding a ‘good picture’ for the sorority’s social media page sent me down a spiral. 

i hit what can only properly be described as a crash out, frantically texting my friends paragraphs about how i am the weirdest looking being that’s ever graced the earth and never has anyone had features so grotesque. i was so upset i tried to go to bed at 5:30pm. 

this isn’t true. i know that now. although some days i am going to look better than others, i am still young and relatively pretty, and other things like my health and safety are much more important to getting through the day. 

i had a very kindergarten moment when i reminded myself that social media is not reality. this spiral came after a long day of watching tiktok (evil) and flipping through magazines (glamorous evil) and looking through other posts on my sorority’s instagram. i was looking at these photos, then my photos and comparing them and i didn’t have a single photo where i wasn’t drinking (legally of course but still not acceptable), looking like a troll, too naked for social media, or that wasn’t blurry. i just didn’t have a ‘nice,’ cute picture. this led me to the conclusion that i am a disgusting, scary monster and god realized he was letting me cosplay as a harlot for too long and he sucked all the youth and beauty from me. this is where we say ‘there are bigger problems in the world and your acne returning is not the end of the world.’

like a kindergartener i proceeded to do the thing i wasn’t supposed to do and went on tiktok for another two hours. we’re not animals, we’re just babies. we cry. we play. we want the cookie. we get acne from the cookie and our friends hate us and we cry again. i don’t really know anything about kids. but do i know that i am not the only person alive that doesn’t have a good picture for public, family friendly profiles. the idea of a ‘good picture’ is a myth invented by the sorority profiles i am now a part of. so if you ever find yourself doubting your looks (or friends for their inability to snag a perfect well lit photo of you even though you basically cower in fear from the camera), just know that this perfectly normal photo was the product of an onslaught of self hate, a selection of few narrowed down by recency, heavy doubt as its slightly blurry and my eyes look wonky so i was afraid people would think i was drunk (even though i wasn’t), and cropping out two white claws (yes i know that makes me sound like i actually was drunk but they were full i just often have wonky eyes). 

xoxo

frazzled midwestern woman aesthetic