The problem was that I was not chill. And I hated it. I yearned to be unburdened from the anxieties of caring and to revel in the magnetism of a breezy attitude. This cultural need to pathologize women who not only take the reins of their identity but also openly engage the full range of their feelings—you know, as a healthy human being tends to—remains a fraught battle as old as time. We are each so deliciously complex and messy; what better way to pay homage to these multiplicities than to feel, to express, and to carve out space to navigate as our purest self? So today and the days to come, I wish for a speedy death to the chill girl within all of us, a kiss of death to the malleable shell of ourselves surviving only on our socialized compulsion to people please. And a long and fruitful life to the woman who has patiently been waiting underneath. Yeah, that bitchy little nuisance is known as imposter syndrome.
Aim not to put too much attempt in the way that you air, you want to keep it accepted. But also look completely flawless — this bit is key!! So consume hundreds on makeup that is absolutely undetectable to the human eye. After that spend hours styling your hair after that then messing it all up all over again for that just got out of bed look.
Her favourite movies are Die Hard, Argue Club and porn. She looks akin to a supermodel without spending hours accomplishment ready. She also has a atypical medical condition that means she has to give a blowjob every four hours or she dies. A sexy unicorn. A slutty minotaur.