Finding me.

September 19, 2017.

Foreign melodies, clanking chimes, talking, my voice, all of it.
I need any one way, any one thing, to drown it out.
Turning away, to turn to you. 

  Loving my selfie is getting easier, but by no means is it something I'm able to do every day. From the facial scars to the various worries of how my face-size appears - plus the fact I still appear college-aged - it's sometimes hard to not think about the ridicule and comments others may make and, even more, my own perceptions. It impacts self-worth when it shouldn't.

"I'm just fine here, finding me." -VH. I'm also just fine here, wearing one of my favorite shirts.

  I felt confident and comfortable on Sunday while I was relaxing before my radio show; I was wearing one of my favorite shirts and wanted to put effort into my hair and makeup despite the fact I'd be sitting in the studio alone for the majority of the night. After embracing the warmth from the sun and snapping a few photos, I smiled as I reviewed the shots. Damn, I don't look too bad. I look genuinely happy and not that weird-looking. Why can't I look like this every day?

  Music is an integral part of my self-discovery and self-acceptance this year, especially trying to find myself and find out why my life goals have kept me in Ohio for two years. Music actually has always played a role in my identity, just unconsciously and I'm now looking back and discovering the ways in which it did all those years ago

  I've met a lot of wicked-awesome individuals, in real life and online, who (I hope) label me as an acquaintance, at the least; they have taken the time to discuss nearly anything and everything about the musicians we mutually enjoy. They should know I'm thankful and appreciative of their time and friendship. TY, everyone.

  Nothing ground-breaking here; I wanted to be vulnerable. That's all.