KENDIMI KAYBETMEK// LOSING MYSELF

Yes, kendimi kaybetmek is Turkish, which translates to losing myself.
I wish it was the mystical kind, the one where I turn into a whirling dervish and lose myself into the love and bounty of The Giver. Unfortunately, its the wrong kind.

Yanlış türlü mü, acaba? Kendine yalan söyleme, Ayesha.

The wrong kind, is it? Don't lie to yourself, Ayesha.

If anything, the way I lost myself this past year can never, and shouldn't be categorized as wrong. It has only done me good, after sufficient damage though. An eyeopener, much better put.

For a destructive optimist (my positivity is my doom) and consistently naive individual like myself, it takes a lot of time till I actually focus on the problems at hand. And since i was my own biggest problem, I was being a coward to my own existence, I conveniently stored these changes in a space somewhere deep down, to be addressed later.

Güvensiz// Insecure

I turned into a fairly insecure person. Ive gotten back on track, and I was never like this. But there were things I was doing that seemed as if I was covering up some doubts.
For one, there was an excess of makeup; all kinds. I made it a point to do my makeup every time I step out, (almost everytime, im lazy). I experimented, but there was always a layer that sat on my face, enough to provide a shield to my dubious nature.

And to be honest, it never seemed to settle with me when I would step out. On some days yeah, I would give myself a good hair flip in the mirror, but on the inside, I was always cursing myself FOR NOT ALLOWING MY SKIN TO BREATHE.







The insecurity escalated when my skin got worse BECAUSE of the makeup, so I assume. *applauses self*
I had flaky skin, I waxed a layer of skin off my face. My cheeks were always burning, my lips were chapped. But the makeup? I made sure it stayed.

This was a big deal.

Up until 2 years ago, maybe 3, I was someone who didn't even bother with foundation on her skin. My sunblock was plentiful. Ive never used foundation but, the amount of creams for various purposes made sure my skin wasnt missing out on that experience.
I started panicking one morning, when I began with the monotonous routine of makeup brushes, makeup, tissues and other stuff that had annoying fall out. This year, I had around 4 bags for makeup; eyes, lips, face etc. I was getting out of hand and so was this excuse to use so much of it. I had to sit with myself and ask WHY I was so insecure.
For someone whose content with herself, accepting the mere fact that you're insecure is a tedious task on its own. I would be laughing it off, layering it with humour which was self targeted.
My methods of reconciliation were opening my front camera and checking up on my face. Such became the unfortunate and pitiful state.
My nails would rarely be without nail colour, my hair would always be styled. My clothes, well thought of.
(From wearing your PJs to work, different socks pairs, chipped nail paint and the minimal need to wash my face before stepping out, to all of this excessive femininity)
*before I die at the hands of a feminist, it's light humour.

Fair to say I lost my way severely, my curiosity for newer roads got off tracked. I'm back at it, still in 2nd gear but its a change. I verify the insecurity as a genuine one; people's influence counts for a lot, what they say affects even the most self content individuals.
I'd like to believe that I NEEDED to go through his phase, just to realize it's worth. (ZERO). For myself, that is.
I'm back to my black nail paint, three-toned hair, lipstick-i-use-as-blush and kitty socks.

''For it is when you lose the way, that you find yourself.''