It's just not what it used to be

You know how a few days ago I was walking, no I was posted up on cloud nine. Practically singing the praises of a social media free world, yeah, so as it turns out that was a beginner's high. You remove even the slightest of distractions, your conscience literally forces you to confront realities that were lurking in the shadows, waiting for their big break. Go figure, the older you get the more pronounced these realities become.

First up on the scene is trends. Circa 2016, may have been the height of the natural hair movement on the Kenyan scene, and I like the crazed twenty something year old I was began a natural hair page. Crazed, because in retrospect, I was in it for all the wrong reasons. Yes, it had its highs but now the simplicities of life, a middle part pony, less intricate protective styles, wash-hour-or-two replacing wash-days have been beckoning and there is nothing I do best than heed to that call. The attention that came with it, though not much, was responsible for offering a sense of validation and almost like clockwork came comparison and entitlement, a looser curl pattern will do the trick, longer hair will reel them in, product X will be the game changer. In the end it is just hair. 

Image.Looks aren't everything but for sure, they are something. The older I have become the more I notice that when my brows are looking scraggly and my hair is in an even more dire spot, the less like myself I feel. Believe it or not I only started being MVP contender in the brow game in the recent past, needless to say, it does serve quite the purpose. The kicker though, never in a billion years did I think that I would latch on, cling to my outward appearance even as much as I do now.

Now that we have the perception of me out of the way, let's talk about others perception of me. I am constantly questioning it. Am I too dark? Am I even pretty? I mean the short answer is, you have to think you are beautiful to know that you are beautiful because no one else can do it for you. Admittedly, it is easier said than done, especially at this time in my life which is considered my prime. The honest, yet sad truth, my overall image for the longest time has been left at everyone's disposal except mine. Everyone, at first glance, seems to be living la vida loca while I often feel like I am merely a filler in some void (disclaimer, the social media break has more or less halted the breaks on these sentiments. It feels good to be free of the invisible shackles of digital perception.)

The elephant in the room. I am the elephant. The elephant is I. Yes, I am overreacting but you want to know what isn't, my metabolism. It really isn't what it used to be. Those fifteen to twenty minute workouts don't do what they used to about 7 years ago and the 30 minute ones? Unless it is a HIIT, full body workout, incorporating the occasional weights and I am on beast mode from the warm-up to the cool-down, then I might as well have wasted 30 minutes which I will never get back. Recently, I stepped on the scale and it wasn't good, I tried on some clothes that were between a good and snug for fit and that was not good either. That is the only wake up call I needed. The upside is a lot of health conscious decisions are going to be made going forward, the downside, a lot of health conscious decisions are going to be made. Already a lot is out the window; lactose, gluten makes special guest appearances here and there but it just isn't the same. Pigging out, an old pastime has since been given the boot.

These are just some of the joys of adulting. It is triggering to realize that I have the rest of my life to continue unwrapping this gift that keeps on giving.