Beauty, and why I no longer give a fuck.
First of all - Sorry I haven't posted. I have a bit more material, honest, but I've also been flooded with things to do and I'll be posting on and off until the summer because of exams, revision and all sorts of less-than-fun stuff. I came to a bit of a realisation today - a realisation that came 16 years too late, but at least it dawned on me. I have never been a lover of make-up. I wear dresses (I have a particular weakness for summer dresses), but that's about it in terms of my femininity. High-heeled shoes look good, but I like not falling over. For a while, when I was younger, I had this bound up with notions of purity and virtue - I was also hellishly insecure about not having sex, about my looks, about my worth as a person...pretty much everything. It's not something that I particularly like about myself - not something I could easily or ever forgive myself for - but it's probably more worth my while to change for the better and focus on fixing things...