Splash.

image1I’ve debated creating a blog for quite some time now. There’s a collection of reasons why I put off doing it. Admittedly, I feel that blogging has evolved into a hobby that anybody, and I mean absolutely anybody can and will do. I scroll through my social media and see blog share after blog share. I give everyone the benefit of the doubt and click on each one, only to be disappointed by the quantity of grammar errors, spelling mistakes, and posts of platitude. Every site contains either political views, “open letters,” or another reminder that the poster, yes the poster, is, too, imperfect. *gasp*

I got into a discussion with my boyfriend the other day about how vulnerability is becoming a trend. It isn’t real, raw, vulnerability, however. Our real scars, the ones each day we cover with makeup to hide, are not the ones that we eventually muster up the bravery to show. We decide to embrace the wears and tears that we choose not to patch up because it’s now the style to have loose threads. This, I have a problem with.

I’m going to attempt to bring in some imagery here without sounding too “basic.”

People, to me, are like oceans.

I know, I know. But let me explain: Calm oceans are beautiful, they let you see the vastness of their surface. Calm oceans are also, however, boring (unless you are on a boat… in which case, calm oceans are preferred, obviously). The image of an ocean in a storm seems much more beautiful, right? Waves are reaching thirty, forty, fifty feet high and crashing down on many, new-born waves, multiplying, roaring, and sending splashes of wrathful foam through bullets of rain. It seems a little more enthralling than the image of a minor swell. People’s presented insecurities are the oceans in storms, the images that excite us. Jennifer Lawrence falling in her dress on her way to accept her Oscar was a monumental moment for us women. We’ve been there. We know. Heels are not easy. And we can empathize when J-Law says she’d rather be eating pizza than wearing a gown.

But what about what’s going on below the crashing waves? What can we find if we plunge deeper, far beneath the storm that makes us beautiful? What about the monsters that lurk on the ocean’s floor? The things that continue to exist far below the surface, even when the storm surpasses? We choose not to show these, maybe because we’re actually insecure, or, maybe because it’s not in fashion.

I’m sounding incredibly critical right now. But if we, as a generation, are exposing the demons that we are told are safe to expose, are they really demons?

A part of me does, really, truly, like the current surge of honesty we see online. I don’t entirely mind it that it’s cool to be open about how you’d rather eat nachos than a salad, or how your bed is your one true love. These are all things to which I can relate. I want my future daughters to be able to feel confident enough to not care about people “hating on” their eating habits, messy hair, and acne scars. Our world is heading in this direction, as these things are now things we can admit to, and embrace, simply because we know others struggle with it, too.

It’s important to note, however, that it is because we are open with it that we can appreciate how relatable all of these struggles are. If these surface level flaws are now becoming not only accepted, but trendy, imagine what life would feel like knowing that your economic hardships, anxiety-induced hives, chronic nightmares, body hair, lopsided boobs, social ineptitude, extreme paranoia, cellulite, and any other concealed “imperfection” could be discussed, safe from judgment. What if our children could one day turn to a friend in class and tell them about a panic attack they had the previous night and the other person hug them as a response? And what if that kind of reaction was normal? -Nay, expected?

We are really moving there. Sexuality and mental illness are now becoming topics acceptable to discuss. Maybe not everyone is open to these things yet, but we’re getting there. And it should not go without saying that we do still have a long way to go.

I just want to say that I don’t think one’s sexual orientation, mental illness, or any other “flaw” I listed is really a flaw. I whole-heartedly believe that these things, though some of them may come with a challenge (and I know from experience that there are aspects of ourselves that bring struggle), can give our “ocean” life.

I’m not entirely sure where this blog is headed. I don’t know what you’ll be finding on here in future posts. My days usually consist of beginning exciting novels (and typically neglecting to finish them), pretending I’m a coffee snob, being mistaken for a ninth grader (I’m nineteen), rotting away while waiting for my friends to come home for the summer, and putting off unpacking my college clothes. Can’t say it’ll be exciting.

But then again, those are just my crashing waves.

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