When It's Time To Change

Initially this blog was meant to service my overwhelming love of fashion and pricy items. I worked incredibly hard to get it up and running, learning how to create a blog page, making yet another Facebook page, and then had to beg even my closest friends to follow. 

Writing for that blog was hard. I enjoyed the topics I chose, but so much work goes into writing a piece that they were usually cut short and lacked luster. It was not until I returned home from a trip to New York (where I bought one ratty tank and a map drawing) that my trip with Chic in Shambles really began. 

My life to this point has been a journey of failure, but one with a very clear ending goal. I was to do great things. Clearly, having that vague grasp on your dreams makes for a difficult vision of the dream itself.  

First the thought lie in being the best reporter ever to grace a TV screen, but Giuliana Rancic already holds that title. Then it was to be the best fashion blogger in the world. But Leandra Medine is also the shizz, so tough luck for me. 

It wasn't until that trip to New York, when I took a three hour plane ride to ponder life, that I realized none of these things were me. Frankly, I looked like a goon on TV because my eyes would retract and my mouth would run dry. Writing about fashion is great, but I have never been well versed in brands and I haven't bought anything that didn't have cut off sleeves or fringe in months. 

What I am good at however, is evaluating peoples lives. I take great pride in being the fly on everyones wall, and as much as I enjoy engaging in conversation I will pick up on every sly move you make. In high school I made it a priority to remember every  persons face, just incase someone blew up the school. It was a rough place and people hated those walls. No precaution is too much. 

This crazy, but some what piratical, trait seems to be working. The past few post have been tailored to my views on life, and have resulted in a few thank you's and compliments. Emphasis on the FEW... I know I'm not getting picked up by The Ellen Show any time soon, though that dream will stand until it happens. 

But the encouragement has helped me lean towards a new wave or writing, and get back to where this whole journey began. I wanted to make a change, that has always been true. Now I am trying my hand at making it with the thing I find passion in. People. 

So thank you, to those who have encouraged me to stay true to myself. I will write these post in hopes to guide one of you through even the smallest problem you have. With hopes that you find clarity in my words, I will write to the everyday struggles of a generation of 20-somthings with nothing in life figured out. And to those who are offended by anything I say from here on out, sorry. Though, not really sorry, but you get the gist.

So, This is a Post NOT About Miley

Returning home from a business trip this weekend I was compelled to write about the many places people said I could go in life, and the many things they thought I would do. But there isn't anything more annoying than a post of how many times your own horn has been tooted over the years. 

It was not until I read yet another blog on the Miley Cyrus VMA's show that a niche surfaced. 

I am not here to discuss the level of profanity her performance brought. Frankly I like the song, and don't really care what she does to portray her new sense of style. Yeah, when asked I'll say her dance was over the top, but the first thing out of my mouth was that her voice was good. The thing I am here to say is this:

At least she got people talking. For weeks leading up to the VMA's social media was buzzing with the rumors of 'N Sync stepping up to the mic and dancing their gracefully aged boy band butts off one more time. Justin Timberlake's 20 minute performance was epic in all forms, yet people are wasting their time talking mad shit about a girl who rubbed a foam finger on herself. 

My elementary school principal told me I would be the first female president. My third grade teacher came up to the school in the middle of her maternity leave to congratulate me on a perfect English TASS score. These things happen to everyone, in no way do I think I'm awesome. But what I took from it was to do things that get people talking. And when you are the one talking, do it for the right cause. 

We can zoom in on a photo of Miley Cyrus's butt and show the ounce of cellulite captured in mid dance move, or we can take the time to tell our kids that loving your body is a great thing. You can bet your bottom dollar my rear end would never be caught dead in that bathing suite spandex she sported. 

Or we could take the time to discuss free expression. Tell the teens of our generation that while everyone might not like what you do, if you have good reason and heart backing your decisions then it's your decision to share it with the world. 

Better yet... lets talk about the God who is Justin Timberlake. A man that can sing and dance for 20 minutes straight. Who has worked his way from boy band babe to actor/singer/man of every woman's dreams, who instead of screwing around has a wife and brings his parents to watch him receive an award named after yet another great performer. 

We spend so much time as critics of everyone else's work, what if we spent half that time being critics of our own? Pushing ourselves to do great things, or do shitty things that get people talking. Either way, just get people talking. Find your power and own it. Do you think either of those singers got where they are today by harassing other artist? Doubt it. 

Fear is Forgetting Who You Are

I have never really known what fear means. As a child I felt fear when doing something wrong or out of my comfort zone. As a teen I felt fear in driving. Mainly because I seemed to always end up smashed into trees or scraping fire hydrants. As a young adult (if my age can confirm this status) I fear many, many things. 

Just last night, talking to my mom before our 10 o'clock bed time, we discussed my lack of a social life. Unstated in my "What to do in Your 20's" handbook are the rules to mingling with others your age. You can understand my shock at the lack of pages seeing this book isn't even used...

So there my mom sat, explaining how all the other 20-year-olds with jobs go out. My rebuttal was clear and crisp "They don't have to worry about making a career for themselves, they have a stable job." She said that was fair, but I should really get out of the house more. I mean, some times I go to the store or a meeting, does this not count?

At the moment of impact I thought nothing of the comment. It wasn't until later when the word WORRY began to swell in my head. Do I really worry about my choice to chase over-the-top dreams? Am I actually crippling myself from having a real life? Was I going to die a lonely spinster with not as much as a cat fetish (cats hate me)?

It is true, I do fear some of my choice. I see the people around me getting their first car and their own apartments while I sit on student loan debt and a dream to travel the world creating things that change my generations mindset. And that is when I realized, I do not fear my future, I fear the things society wants me to do. 

Sure, it is a lot of fun going out and having a few drinks. But while people are doing that I'm writing a book and tossing around ideas for a clothing line. Yes, these things might not ever amount to anything, but what if they do? I have to be true to myself and at least try. 

That is the thing with fear. It so often takes on the face of confusion. It is there to test your feelings and trick you into things not true to yourself. Sure, it might be scary to stop doing something you know for something you know nothing about. But wouldn't it be the best feeling in the world to say you fought fear and came out alive on the other end? 

This Is It

My name is Shelby. I just turned 22. And am confident in the fact that I have life all figured out.

I live at home and work from my childhood desk. My days consist of begging people to let me do marketing for their companies and writing when I have the time. All while taking breaks to go grocery shopping with my mom, and knowing in the back of my mind that I will do great things.

And though this predicament seems quite mundane, and my life seems to be very much in shambles, to me it feels like the exact place I should be. This is the right path.

I will never forget the time a friend asked when I was going to start looking for a real job again, and having to ponder the thought of what a real job even is? Was I doing the wrong thing by leaving a stable position that I was sure to pay my rent by for something that was not even mapped out in my own mind?

Though young, I am confident in one thing: I will do my best to never work under someone who does not respect me again. Been there done that. Was made a fool of and sent packing with a shattered dream of being a broadcast journalist crumpled in my office mint holder.

Sobbing into the phone with my mom there was only one thing I could think "I was meant for so much more."

Which is where I think we should all be after college. Starring in the face of our newly sought after journey, with hardly any money and new roommates named mom and dad, or someone else if you so choice to not take advantage of free meals and unconditional love (even when you are trying to work). We should be scared and we shouldn't know what is going to happen. We should be up for the adventures to come and work day and night to get there.

We might think we deserve things, but we deserve nothing. I am well acquainted with working way too much. Sacrificing food and sleep to put in the hours. Losing nights out and group dinners to perhaps get ahead. From it I have learned what we deserve, and that is only the ability to dream for greater things.

So this is where I'm at. A little crazy and very much overwhelmed. But I am dreaming, and one day I know I will do great things. For now that's all I need.