If you couldn’t already tell, this is the same dress in two different colors, and actually two different sizes. Which brings me to one of my many shopping rules: when it comes to building your wardrobe, if you come across a great piece, at a great price that fits you well, get at least two of them in different colors. Those items become your uniform pieces. Meaning these are the pieces you can pull out the back of your closet when you run smooth out of things to wear. They should go well with your existing wardrobe so that you can mix and match, and get the hell to work on time.
Self care is one of those buzz words that just won’t go away, and for good reason. Most of us don’t do enough self care, because we’ve all mindlessly submitted to the belief that if you aren’t constantly tired, you’re not working hard enough. It’s like you feel guilty for spending all Saturday in your underwear watching Netflix and ordering takeout. Unlike most people, I will never see getting my nails done as a form of self care. Nail shops are a mind phuck resulting in anxiety and constant questioning of social norms. I don’t look forward to the process of getting my nails done at all. I almost equate it to getting a Pap smear in that it’s terribly uncomfortable, the person performing the task is talking at an awkward time, and I just want it to be over. Here’s a list of things I hate that nail shop.
- Choosing a nail color. This shouldn’t be that hard, yet I feel like it’s a race against time to choose a color I’ll be okay with for two whole ass weeks. As soon as you walk in the nail tech tells you to choose a color, and if you take too long they judge you. BUT, if you choose a color you don’t like and ask them to change it, they judge you. I always want to say, “Hey I have commitment issues, so can I have some time and space to really get to know this color?”
- The up charge math. Moment of honesty, I suck at math. I am convinced the nail tech knows this, and lures me into all of these up-charges that she knows I’m going to lose track of. One minute I’m at a total of $25 for a fill in, and by the time I leave I need to take out a small loan, because they’ve charged me to take off my old polish, cut down my nails, add a quick dry top coat, and somehow a massage got thrown in there. In your mind you’re thinking it’s only an extra $3, then an extra $6, and next thing you know you’re washing towels in the back to cover your debt.
- The stare down. Have you ever gotten stared down by the other nail techs in the salon who aren’t doing anyone’s nails? They stare at your nails during the entire process, and you don’t know if you should be flattered or concerned. Then other techs start coming out the back to gawk at you too. What the hell is happening here?
- Cuticle cutting. I cannot look while they cut my cuticles. I just don’t understand how they know where to stop, and I am terrified they are going to strike blood. It literally makes my palms sweat to watch that, so I casually look away.
- The tip Nazis. Until I moved to New York, I had never been shamed into tipping. These salon owners play no games. They will tell you, you didn’t tip enough, to which I say bull shit! I always over tip, because I know they expect for me not to tip at all. A friend of mine was literally told she couldn’t leave a salon until she tipped more. Crazy right?!
- Angry patrons. I hate it when hood and/or entitled people show out in the nail shop. It’s so embarrassing. Maybe it shouldn’t be, but it really is. You sit there and cringe while they curse the nail tech out for reasons no one understands, and then you end up over tipping and being overly nice to compensate for the actions of the women you don’t even know.
- The emergency shop. Going to a new salon, because you can’t get to your regular place, and realizing shortly thereafter that you’ve made a terrible mistake is one of the worst experiences in womanhood. You realize really quickly that this place is not up to par, but you’re in too deep to tell them to stop, and really you just want to run out of there screaming like a busty white chick in a horror film.
- The Questionnaire. I have left the nail shop before in a state of existential crisis, because my nail tech has started asking me questions about life that I can’t answer. It starts off so harmless.
Nail Tech: You’re not married?
Nail Tech: Why not? You’re such a pretty girl. Do you have a boyfriend?
Me: Who sent you? Did my mom put you up to this? I DON’T KNOW WHY I’M SINGLE!!! *Flips table and knocks everything off shelves, then turns into She Hulk and renders entire city destitute.
If you are new here, welcome! You should probably stop now, and go to my About Me page so that you’re not completely lost. Go ahead. I’ll wait. Promise.
If you are returning, heeeeeyyyyy!!
Have you ever noticed that in life we tend to accept the things we feel we deserve? We only go after the things we know we will excel in, because we are afraid to fail. We subconsciously seek out partners we are comfortable with even if they aren’t good for us, because we don’t want to face rejection from someone better. BTW, it takes far too many heartbreaks to learn that comfort doesn’t always equal happiness. We settle for jobs that don’t feed our passion, because we would rather have the safety of guaranteed cash than to risk the unknown. We will accept mediocrity and unhappiness simply because we are afraid. That fear manifests itself into self-sabotage, as a means to avoid having to face possible disappointment. The thing is that when we play it safe, we deny ourselves the opportunity to experience the fullness of our capabilities. I have done that my entire life without realizing it.
Apparently at some point very early on (I can’t recall exactly when because I’m no spring chicken) I experienced a rejection so troubling that I ran to that feeling every time I wanted to go after something greater than what I had. Whatever that pivotal rejection was wounded me so deeply, and shattered my self-confidence so immensely, that even as a 29 year old woman I still lean on that hurt as an excuse to settle.
Here’s an example. Allow me to take you back. Insert 90’s era sitcom dream sequence here. There was a guy who I formed an amazing friendship with when I was an 18 year old freshman at Georgia Southern University. I thought so highly of him, and so low of myself that despite his constant professions of love for me over the course of our friendship, I never fully allowed myself to believe him. I thought how can this amazing guy really feel this way about me, when he can have anyone he wants? I rejected the idea of him loving me so vehemently that I did the most destructive things to shut down any chance he and I would’ve ever had of being together. I completely sabotaged myself. In my mind it was better for him to not know he was the only person I wanted than to face him telling me he didn’t feel the same way. This man came to my literal rescue time and time again, and talked me down off a few figurative ledges for years. But, my complete lack of self-confidence made me overly sensitive to everything he would say and do, causing us to mutually push each other away. For years, I was haunted with thoughts of what if? In retrospect, the unknowing was far worse than what it would’ve felt like for him to reject me.
So I sit here now older and wiser, yet I’m doing the same thing again with my career. I thought that I was such a risk-taker, especially because so many other people regard me as such. I thought that making the big move to the big city meant I was showing this huge act of faith, and that alone should be enough to carry me through to the next level. I didn’t realize until a few months ago that I wasn’t really doing as much as I should/could. I got so comfortable that I started to feel antsy. I started to feel discontent and restless in my spirit, because something in me knew that I wasn’t doing enough. I have wanted to put more into this site and into my brand for a while, but I was so afraid to fail in front of everyone. Like, could you imagine being Meek Mill and taking L after L with everyone watching? The horror! I kept thinking I’m not good enough yet, give it a few months. Lose a little weight, then try it out. Save up some money, and then do it. I made excuse after excuse, until I finally ran out. I did that thing we all do when we run out of answers: pray. It’s actually the first thing we should do, but hey I’m human. One night in my bed I cried so hard that I started to pray, and then I started to cry because I was praying so hard. I kept asking God to help me to see what was wrong with me. I couldn’t understand why I wasn’t able to be disciplined enough to commit to consistently taking steps to create a better life for myself. I didn’t realize I was just fighting against myself. We always think to fight the external enemy (whatever yours is) but sometimes you are actually your own enemy. Sometimes the voice you keep hearing telling you that you can’t do something is actually your own, and that’s some scary shit to realize. Why would you speak against yourself? Why would you tell yourself you couldn’t be better? It’s because on some level you are just trying to protect yourself from potential failure, and/or disappointment. I saw that by hiding behind fear, I was holding myself back from so much.
So I promise you, my readers that you will get more from me more consistently. I won’t be afraid anymore. I am out of my own head, and out of my own way to make this site better. Let’s grow and laugh together for a while, shall we?
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