No One's Perfect : Hello I'm Clo

No One's Perfect

Since I arrived in New York last week, I’ve had a lot of down time that’s not filled with internet musings and online tabloaid gossip. I have, in essence be detached from my life in England as well as my life online. It’s really shocked me on reflection, at just how much I do spend online and how little it actually matters in the grand scheme of things.


Not only this, but I’ve been horrified to see myself in my family holiday snaps (Photographs.) It appears that the late nights glued to screens, eating whilst working and my attachment to Pershwari narn has finally caught up with me. I have honestly never felt less glamorous.  New York isn’t as glamorous as it is portrayed but all the same, I’ve felt pretty yuck.

This time last year it was my skin, and my skin only that concerned my daily ridiculing. Now it’s my weight, my shape and my ever changing female figure. It appears we never really are satisfied by our own beauty.

 Times Square, New York with my Dad.

This past year has been a haze, a quick haze at that. I’ve eaten too much, not exercised enough and got hips and an arse (Ass) like a boulder / cupcake / mountain. Something needs to change before I delve into more self-loathing and end up wishing I looked like my former self as I stare into the mirror to be greated by someone I don’t physically recognise.

For many my issues are a mere drop in the ocean, many will wonder what my problem is and that I should be thankful, grateful for what I’ve got, however in this ever critical, self indulgent ‘Selfie’ culture It’s the little things that start to eat away at us. We’re forever under scrutiny.

The gym is calling me, as are bigger jeans. Oh the life of a teenage girl.

Ramble, ramble, ramble.

Speak soon,
Lots of love,

Clo : -))

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