I‘m sitting by the heater as close as a girl can possibly get without melting.
I’m flicking through Pinterest, Instagram, Facebook…
In a holey nightie that used to be my Mum’s. My hair is torn apart like a windswept tree. Washing lies unfolded on a chair and I could fold it. But I don’t. Underneath that chair lies a great big stain that I can’t for the life of me get out. So I hide it.
Right now I am so far from Instagrammable. So far from Pinteresting.
That it is laughable.
But sometimes I worry about coming across too perfectly.
And that scares me.
So for the record. If ever there was any doubt.
Strip me back to my bare essentials and you will find that I am just me. Human. Breakable.
Skin and bone. Cellulite and pimples. Happiness and heartache.
I am all of that and then some.
My grass isn’t exactly greener.
It is more than likely just the rose-tinted glow of a pretty picture. So that we both might lose ourselves for a moment, to a more pleasant ideal.
And dream a little bigger.
For just a little while longer.
Me unmasked vs. my camera-ready alter ego
Lyrics from Who You Are – Jessie J [/red_box]