My first year as a freelancer felt like a constant hangover, not the type that comes after having a good time but more like the movie…
Where the fuck am I? Who are these people? I've been working for 15 hours? Am I awake or is this a dream?
How did I end up on this shitty job?
And why... are my underwear disappearing?
I quit my job in Ohio so I could suffer on my terms and moved to New York City to attend Makeup Forever Academy. I made some friends there, but we all seemed like toddlers trying to figure out how to balance our massive heads on our shoulders while we are taking our first steps toward freelancing.
While at the Academy, at least I had a place to be every day, and my life felt like it had a rhythm. After graduating, I was in NYC on my own, without rhythm, and my life was a mess. I was also away from my daughter, which caused me an enormous amount of pain and anxiety.
I was excited to work, but I was in worse shape than John Snow being dragged through winter beyond the wall… while everyone kept rubbing it in his face that he knew nothing!
But fast forward: he’s in a cave with a beautiful woman, staring at her tits. LUCKY! If I could only fast forward my career to some tits as well… and maybe find those lost underwear!!
No tits nor underwear to be found though! Well, at least the tits were out there but I guess not enough to share… Be a good freelancer and share a tit, would you?
At that time, my self-worth was dependent on how much work I was getting. So I spent days sinking into my couch, feeling meh, and telling myself that I’m not fit to be a makeup artist—that I lack the skills, the looks, and absolutely the underwear! Or being mad at everyone else: “I’m a good makeup artist, damn it. Show me the money!” I would sink into those thoughts and even further into my couch.
During my third marathon of Game Of Thrones, I noticed Carmella, my roommate’s dog walking across the room and standing by her bowl like she does every day. I looked at the clock and knew that she was waiting to eat. You see, this stink dog (which is what we all called her) would get anxious if she didn't eat, sleep, or go out at the same time every day. I wondered what my day would look like if I were as committed to some sort of a schedule like Carmella is...
The thing is, I woke up whenever I wanted those days. I ate whenever I wanted, I helped friends with their emails, websites, lent my face to people who wanted to practice... I became more social than I knew myself to be. I would get sucked into other people’s lives and kind of forgot about mine! I was responding to everyone’s life while I became the background of my own! The pain of being away from my daughter was too much for me to bear, so I would seek any sort of distraction to pass the days.
I started this blog because I know there is a mother out there who’s waiting for the right time to start something new. I started this blog because I know that a girl that just moved here from god knows where is comparing herself to others and feeling like she is not doing enough. This is also for the freelancers who struggle with their self-worth, making friends, or feel awkward in social settings. Maybe we have similar fears and goals that we are too afraid to talk about. Even if we don’t, you’re doing everything you can to minimize your suffering. In that way, you and I both are aiming for the same thing.
I thought I was the only one who suffered… Well, not really but I did feel like my suffering was some sort of special. I built my identity around things that were happening to me instead of things that I had control over. I’m still a fuck-up every now and then. I don’t claim to know shit about this business, or life, or where the fuck my underwear are... BUT...I do tend to do better when I think out loud and I think some of you do as well.
So if you’re curious about this whole underwear story please stick around, laugh, cry, ask questions, start a conversation with me over some konafa or something! I’m cool, don’t leave… I have things to tell you about that I wish someone told me about when I first was captivated by the wildlings of the makeup/freelance industry.