The Comfort in My Own Chaos
9:03 AM—Ethan handed me my oat milk latte with zero commentary today, just a nod and a flick of his wrist toward the cinnamon shaker (progress). The sunlight’s hitting my sketchbook at that perfect angle, illuminating the jagged lines of my latest design—something between a wedding dress and a riot gear vest. A week ago, I would’ve cringed at the dissonance. Today? I’m kinda obsessed.
A week ago, I was mourning a breakup like it was the end of an era (dramatic, I know). Yesterday, I was reveling in the freedom of uncertainty. Today? Today I’m realizing something weirdly peaceful: I don’t have to make sense.
Here’s why that’s hitting different:
1. My contradictions aren’t flaws—they’re features. Wore a frilly pink skirt with chunky combat boots to class yesterday. Got one confused glance from a freshman (bless), but my photography professor grinned and said, “That’s a vibe.” It hit me: I don’t owe anyone coherence. Soft and sharp can coexist. So can missing Jake and flirting with Not-Jake in my elective. Life isn’t a mood board—it’s a collage.
2. My “messy” aesthetic is becoming my signature. That punk-ballgown design I was stressing over last week? My professor pulled me aside after class and said it’s the strongest work I’ve done. “It’s unsettling,” she said, “in the best way.” Meant more than any “pretty” compliment ever could. Turns out, leaning into my chaos didn’t ruin my creativity—it defined it.
3. I’m no longer afraid of stillness. Used to treat quiet moments like awkward first dates—something to fill with chatter or distractions. Now? I’m learning to sit in them. This morning, I watched an old man feed pigeons outside the café for ten whole minutes. No epiphany, no Instagram-worthy moment—just peace.
Maybe growth isn’t about becoming someone new. Maybe it’s just coming home to yourself—frilly skirts and combat boots, half-finished designs and unanswered questions, all of it.
So yeah, I’m still figuring it out. But for the first time, that doesn’t feel like a confession. It feels like a promise.
xx Mandy
(P.S. Ethan just asked if I design all my own clothes. I smirked and said, “Only the ugly ones.” He laughed. Progress.)