Becoming Her

A love letter to the younger me who dreamed of this life.

When I was young, I wanted to become “that girl”

( blame The Devil Wears Prada ) and i thought that would happen all at once.

Suddenly on a random morning, I’d wake up prettier, wiser, more interesting, living the life I saw in fashion movies and like the women I admired from afar.

My dreams were stitched together from little things -

•Sound of heels

•Lipstick marks

•Fashion magazines and runway clips.

The young girl dreamed in aesthetics.

I wanted my future to look like movies.

I wanted to walk in rooms “Miranda” style.

and somehow……I became her ( with all my flaws and chaos )

I became the girl who talks about fashion like it’s second nature.

The girl who sees inspiration everywhere-

in movies, editorials, history, sports and in girls rushing through life in messy buns.

My younger self thought success would feel loud.

But becoming her felt quiet.

It looked like trusting my own taste.

Posting despite fear.

Creating despite doubt.

Starting before feeling ready.

And maybe that’s what growing up really is-

Not transforming into a new person,  but slowly becoming someone your younger self would look up to-

for trying, for finding her own path, for figuring out on her on.

I think little versions of us always leave clues behind:

•In the things we were drawn to

•The lives we romanticised

•The dreams we repeated over and over without realising they were becoming plans.

And now sometimes, when I’m creating, styling, writing, dreaming bigger than before, I catch myself thinking-

“ I grew up and became the girl I always wanted to be”