A few years ago, you could find me doodling or writing in some page of my notebooks, except you wouldn’t be able to find any of it shared. I didn’t think it was any good, and I was even too embarrassed to share it with friends and family.
There was a part of me that was in fear I would be judged for expressing myself more than I usually did.
So I kept to myself.
I was prone to hiding.
It wasn’t until earlier this year when I started to go against my gut instinct to keep everything a secret.
I started sharing my fashion illustration work bit by bit at first, and then a pause. Friends were enjoying it and giving support, but again, I was unsure if this was what I wanted to do. Why would anyone care (and at the same time, do they have to care)? More importantly, why did I care?
Coming face to face with my hiding problem once again, I quickly grew tired of wanting things to be perfect before anyone saw it. I grew tired of “aesthetic feeds”. I wanted to talk about things that mattered to me, not just share pretty pictures.
And so now I do just that.
I’m overly certain that there are a lot more fittings and changes to go through, but I’m also overly relieved that what seemed to be a great personal ordeal is now addressed.
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