Un*apologetic: that you refuse to say you're sorry or to express any regret.
I do not know if it happens to you, but I feel that my life up to this moment has developed in cycles.
Some are extremely good and happy and others are confusing and difficult to digest.
As Holly Golightly would say
Some days are blue and some are red
But the reds are those days when you do not have an answer for anything. Those in which you feel that you can not handle life and just want to give up.
The red days are days when you are scared and simply not know what the next step is.
That's exactly where I am right now.
It's been a winter of red days. Rare days ... Days in which any little thing out of the ordinary unleashes a thousand thoughts in which I question what I feel, what I do and the reasons why; whether it is right or wrong and what it says about me.
It all started with something that happened months ago, which I never thought would happen, because I was nothing but a little girl who believed that life could only be black or white, and that if I did something outside of what I've been taught that was held as correct, that would change me as a person.
I did not regret it, I did not care. I did what I wanted to do and that's it. But a part of me started to wonder if I had stopped being the person I think I am.
In this spiral of thought, it was when I discovered .. or rather became aware of my masks. I told you about them in an article.
Masks that now I realize are much more deeper than just a way of coping with uncertainty but a defense mechanisms born out of repression.
The repression of a traumatic event as it could have been the death of my father when I was 9 years old.
Was I aware of it? No.
But at this moment it is becoming clear to me that the longing for control and perfection that I manage, is not given to prove something, nor try to make his memory proud of me, but it is a way to have power over mundane situations, because when it came to him, I wasn't given a choice. His death was completely beyond my jurisdiction.
So therefore, from then on I have tried to control what I can. From a task, to my interpersonal relationships. I try to do everything in my power to make them work; which I now realize makes me attached and protective to a level that sometimes streaks in jealousy.
However I think all this is very good, at least becoming aware of it, but sometimes, when it comes out in a very cheesy gesture or an attack of jealousy, I tend to feel ashamed.
Because it is really uncomfortable when someone sees you vulnerable or realizes that you are a little broken.
I know that we are all human and every single soul goes through similar situations.
But to realize it ... To reach the point where I am realizing that I am what I am and I do what I do for all this ... It's overwhelming.
Because then ...
I do not have the faintest idea.
But I'm coming to the conclusion that I do not even care anymore.
Making mistakes, having no control over every little detail, partying it out, letting loose, kissing a stranger, saying something you shouldn't say or wearing an outfit that your mother considers inappropriate a few times in your life time does not change you as a person. Nor does it make you irresponsible, drunk, nor vulgar (specifically speaking of these last three examples)
They make you human, and they make you grow into knowing who you are, leaving people's opinions and prejudices aside.
I'm tired of feeling the way I feel.
Developing awareness and improving as a human being is very complicated to keep apologizing for it.
Anyone who loves me and wants to be in my life will know this facet and I suppose that they'll have to accept it, because I will no longer apologize for being who I am.
This doesn't mean I'm strong-willed or overconfident. I want to be unapologetic because this is literally my life. There is nothing I can do about it nor anyone I have to please.
For better or worse. I'm just a person with a strong sense of being, that is all.
Debe ser el cansancio de tanto exponerse.
Tengo la fe un poco rota, y no quiero que nadie llegue y simplemente pegue los pedazos. Quiero que alguien la restaure.
Pero carajo, no es lo mismo mirarse al espejo y amar lo que ves, a que alguien te mire, te acaricie y te diga “eres hermosa”.
Es verdad, y soy consciente de que mi existencia es un entero que no requiere de mitades; pero aun así necesita de otro entero.
Si no fuera así, si estuviéramos destinados a vivir la vida como uno individual, entonces ni las odas ni las mas grandes tragedias estarían escritas sobre amor.
Recorro las calles, escuchando las voces de mi soledad y su eco que emana del mismo sentimiento en el cuerpo de otros buscando confort, mientras exclaman al unísono: "estamos mejor así" "es tiempo de disfrutar" "ya llegará" " dejemos de pensar en eso"
Y si JODER, ya dejemos de pensar en eso porque nos consume... Pero al mismo tiempo quiero pensar.
Que esté dispuesto a dar todo lo que yo puedo dar.
Quiero a alguien que vea más allá de mi cara y mi cuerpo para ver a través de mi piel.
Quiero a alguien que se embriague con el olor de mi perfume, que encuentre su droga en mis labios y ame mi sonrisa.
Una persona que se enamore de mi con ganas, con locura, sin mesura, sin pudor, sin prejuicios y sin dudas.
Alguien que escuche cuando llore, que me sostenga cuando esté apunto de caer, que encuentre en mi un pilar, que me haga entender el mundo, y no me haga falta.
Han pasado días, meses, incluso creo que ya son años, y sigo sin encontrar a alguien que me haga escribir de un amor que no sea fruto de mi fantasía.
No tiene coherencia que te digan que mereces el universo entero y aún así, que nunca nadie se atreva a quedarse.
Por ende, aquí estoy, entre la espada y la pared, entre resignarme y seguir creyendo que tal vez alguien allá afuera es para mi.
Y también dicen que toma tiempo.
Dicen que deje de buscar pero igual dicen que salga a encontrarlo.
Dicen que el amor no existe y después se van y se enamoran.
Tengo el corazón herido, por entregarlo a quien no ha sabido querer.
Tengo el alma medio rota, por abrirme demasiado a quien no ha sabido quedarse.
Pero dicen que eventualmente, algún día, cuando menos lo espere, cuando menos lo piense, llegará.
Dicen que valdrá la pena.
¿Entonces qué hago vagando entre nubes grises con tormentos internos, tristezas incomprendidas y preguntas sin respuesta?
Me acabo de encontrar este texto en una nota en mi celular.
Lo escribí hace un par de meses en una especie de crisis y me la encontré ayer mientras buscaba textos incompletos para escribir.
Es curioso leer estas cosas cuando estas en una etapa emocional distinta.
Por un lado me da miedo la vulnerabilidad del texto, por otra me alegra haberlo superado.
En estos momentos siento todo lo contrario.
Estoy feliz, disfrutando la vida y la compañía de las personas a las que quiero y que hacen de mis días algo muy divertido.
También dejé de buscar la felicidad de afuera hacia adentro.
Mucha gente se pregunta por que el amor no le llega de alguien mas, pero nunca nos preguntamos ¿Hay alguien que yo quiera que se acerque?
O sea literalmente, ¿quien quieres que salga contigo?
Si no hay nadie en concreto y solo esperas que literalmente cualquier desconocido se acerque con tal de salir de la monotonía, estas poniéndole demasiado valor a lo que hay allá afuera en lugar de volverte dueño de tus sentimientos.
Una vez que cambias la perspectiva, todo en tu vida se vuelve mejor, literalmente es cuestión de buscar el lado de la plenitud.
/fem-fə-ˈtal(z), ˌfam-, -ˈtäl(z)\
- A woman who attracts men for her aura of charm and mystery
- An attractive and seductive woman who will ultimately be the destruction of any man who engages her.
Over-obsessing over details, trying to be always perfect, planning every second of every day and having everything figured out is as much a blessing as it is a curse.
Control should serve as a base for a bit of order in life. Nevertheless, to avoid anarchy, one must learn how to cope with the unexpected; how to NOT crumble under pressure, stress, fear and uncertainty.
It is about protecting your heart and soul, as corny as that may sound.
It is about having the strength to get around troubles without compromising your internal well-being.
Drinks, kisses, statements or confessions you name it...
You'll have the power as long as it doesn't make you question your integrity the next day.
Exactly at that point in my analysis is where my association with the femme fatale-ness comes in.
Everyone can be a victim of prejudice, but thousands of years of patriarchy can't be washed away in a second to make us forget that we are usually the ones portrayed as the delicate beings in the eternal wait for a prince, who in the mean time tends to get across cruel dragons who easily mess with her heart.
But it doesn't stop there. She might be submitted to this same pressure among her friends too, if she doesn't agree with everything they say...
At the end, from every angle you'll see the ultimate image of a girl who surrenders her power to the willing of someone else in the hopes of receiving something, in this case, love or acceptance.
But that's never going to happen, is it? Giving up yourself will end up turning into dependency or coexistence and a complete loss of your persona.
I've always considered myself someone who does things by the book.
So, dealing with unexpected variables and attitudes has become a little bit of a problem, specially when it involves situation that make me become vulnerable such as relationships.
And that's were I feel that the femme fatale must be evoke, not with the goal of destruction, but as the guardian of your - self.
That's what I liked about the newest Rouge Interdit collection.
It is not based on portraying utter sensuality, but the power that comes from withing making you completely irresistible.
I'm not sure if it was the den-like underground club we were into, the red lights, the lipstick or the sexiest LBD I've ever worn in my life.
But that night, it became clear to me that power emanates from within. And that if you manage to find it, underneath the doubts, the judgmental voices and insecurities, you'll be ok.
I've always said that clothing is powerful and I feel like fashion is an umbrella where everybody finds shelter and comfort; but it is ground zero to experiment as well.
I must confess that I was a little nervous, because I don't usually play with my sensuality that much while dressing up, but that night, I wasn't just wearing a black dress.
I was letting the glamazon come out and shine. It was exhilarating.
I felt in command of myself and the aura I was projecting.
It was somehow proof that the good girl whose ego had been smashed a few months ago for being too naive could turn into someone stronger, bolder and much more confident.
They say that you have to burn first to be able to rise from the ashes.
I say, don't be a phoenix, become a Femme Fatale
ABOUT THE SITE Born out of a love for fashion before I had discovered my passion for writing, this blog is now about sharing everything that crosses my mind regarding style, travel, beauty, poetry and even love... Hope you enjoy it!!!! ABOUT THE FOUNDER Roberta Woodworth is a writer, fashion obsessed,poetry addict, shoe lover, fitness enthusiast, chmpagne taster, foodie and student from Mexico City, who aside from editing her own page has also collaborated with several fashion editorials such as Elle Mexico, Instyle and Life&Style apart from being editorial advisor for the Reforma newspaper and contributing beauty editor for Finding Ferdinand New York!
Soy una personita que se pasa la mayor parte del tiempo analizando que siente, que piensa y para donde va. Así que por ende, desde que ...
Femme Fa-tale /f em-fə-ˈtal(z), ˌfam-, -ˈtäl(z)\ - A woman who attracts men for her aura of charm and mystery - An attractive and ...
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