Predicaments of a Fashion Lover: LIFE UPDATE // THE POWER OF VULNERABILITY

Life is constantly surprising me. It seems while I age I still fall into old habits of previous years. And September has felt a lot like a climax of my summer and I’m now standing with my hands to the sky asking ‘What now? What the fuck do I do now?!’

Okay, I obviously go to uni, which I’ve been doing very successfully (code for; mum I haven’t missed a lecture yet). I’m working three nights a week as a barmaid and loving it, because who knew so much fun could come from pulling pints and smashing lime and sugar together? I'm enjoying just how freeing being independent is (cue chorus of "independent women don't need no man!" or woman, because we don't need someone in order to live a full life). And I'm working on some projects, so my previous quiet lonely life of Netflix in first year has transformed to a constant on the go, paved with ideas and understandings a year ago I rarely had. It's brilliant.

Maybe it's because I’ve hit a writing slump, so much so I’ve avoided writing anything past a facebook message or cryptic tumblr post for three weeks now. Yikes. Has it been that long? All I know is it’s been a year since I dipped my toes precariously into the world of Adult And University, it’s been a year since I’ve overcame darker moments than this coming seasons evenings, and it’s been a year since I’ve felt magic.

I’ve been thinking a lot about vulnerability and how seldom I let myself think I wanted, craved and deserved something. I’ve pushed away moments of magic when I was blinded by confusion, fear digging it’s nails into my skin and panic bubbling up my throat. I believed myself to being true to my values when I pushed away this magic, the attraction as wanting to be alone. Saw no need in loving someone and let myself be loved in return, for I firstly didn’t love myself, and who can love you if you don’t? And secondly, I thought love would take away my independence I so desperately was holding on to.

I know now how much I crave love, a deep understanding, a warmth of sheets on Saturday mornings and cold hands passing coffee cups in the evenings. My stomach is missing their butterflies and my mouth is waiting for something to make them feel overwhelmed. I can hardly describe it, how I know, but it’s thrumming in my veins and it’s deep in my stomach.

This is me being vulnerable. It’s terrifying. It is so difficult for us to be so human, and to be vulnerable with one and other. We find it difficult to say ‘I need you’ or ‘can you stop doing that because it hurts me’, or even simply ‘I want this, do you?’ And it’s rejection that frightens us, the thought that when we’re putting ourselves out there, we’re going to mess something up even if it’s for a moment. But, and this is such a big but, we deserve to believe we are worth something. We deserve to think we are worthy of a life we want; of a love we want even if to others it may seem we’re setting our standards too high. A wise female friend once told me, ‘if someone likes you, they’ll work through all of that stuff to be with you’. Do you know how right that is?

When I started to become a bit more serious about my writing, I realised a #Predicament of ours is making ourselves smaller for the comfort of others. We fear deep down somewhere in our soul of saying outright and unapologetic ‘I want that, I deserve that, I believe I’m worthy of that’. Do you think you shrink yourself down so others feel more comfortable? Do you think somewhere in your soul, even if it’s the tiniest fragment, that you’re destined for something more? Can you be vulnerable and admit to your deepest wants?

Easter In Essex // 2015

I’ll start. My name is Louise Ramsay; I prefer being called Lou. I want to fall in love and I want it to be with someone I vibe well with, where the connection is powerful and their touch feels like fire. I believe I am destined for something big and I know somewhere that I will find what I’m looking for. I’m lonely and I’m not ashamed to let anyone know, because feeling alone in a romantic sense is nothing to be ashamed of – many of us crave a partner who supports us, who loves us deeply and who holds us higher than anyone previous. This doesn’t mean we lose our ability or sense of being independent as women (or men) and nor does it make us weak. And I now understand to have someone love you and to be in love, doesn’t mean I have to love myself. It’s important to love yourself, it is SO important but we don’t have to push away a love we don’t think we’re worthy of because we haven’t found love for ourselves yet.

The more open we are of our wants and desires, the more I think we’ll attract them. Call it hippy dippy nonsense all you want, but being vulnerable is something I don’t want to be ashamed of anymore. There’s no fun in being a cold closed book; the fun is in being more comfortable and aiming to get to our goals, whatever they may be.