In times when I’m most myself, I thrive.
I wrote that in my Notes app last month. The affirmation settled in amongst the talking points for an audition video I had to make, the questions I wanted to ask my Akashic records (iykyk), the “funny things to send Ayorinde” shared note I had with the last guy I dated, and the blow dryer recommendations I’d gotten from my hairstylist. I genuinely pray no one EVER opens my Notes app. It is the wild west.
As I wrote it, it felt like an obvious truth that I’d known for sometime now and yet had never taken the time to solidify it with my words. Anytime I’ve embodied what feels most natural to me and didn’t care what other people had to say about it, life suddenly clicked into place. I got everything I desired. It was that simple, but still I struggled when it came to exposing too much of my real personality to people.
It was kind of a relief, writing that little note. A gentle reminder that things would always be easier if I stayed true to myself no matter what. I just had to work on actually doing that on a regular basis.
During my 20s, I tried on a lot of different versions of myself. I learned hard lessons, took bold risks, and shaped a life that fifteen year old me would be in awe of. I even created this little brand called Bright-Eyed Joy when I was just 20 years old that has housed all the creative pursuits that made me feel closer to myself when nothing else did.
Now I’m here, in the very last year of my 20s, and it feels like a rediscovery and embrace of who I’ve always been. These feelings haven't always been the case though. As fun as it can be living in New York, everything is a gotdamn aesthetic, and that has often deterred me from being me. There’s girls everywhere with perfectly made up faces in outfits I’d never think of wearing, posing and looking sexy on rooftops and posting dimly lit photos of their dinner plates at chic restaurants. Everybody is outside, all the time, doing something cool. Every photo I see on social media feels like this heavily curated image that is just so different from who I feel like I am.
I had this little epiphany about online image and how it’s affected me while talking to my Uber driver in Chicago — he blamed social media for how hard dating has become. In his words, “men are chasing the BBL girls and women are looking for men with money. It’s all about what people look like online, not who they are in real life.” LOL. While some of this was obviously a very broad generalization, it made me think about how many times I’d allowed social media to get in my head because of how different I felt from the image that everyone else had portrayed themselves as.
Can I be honest?
Makeup isn’t even part of my regular rotation. I often don’t remember to take pictures in general, let alone when I look good. I prefer my natural smile a lot more than trying to look sexy and mysterious. My vibe is generally more bright, airy, and talkative with random bursts of happy energy that come out of nowhere. I hate wearing heels — my hallway is filled with sneakers. Fashion makes me feel wildly self-conscious and I’m still trying to figure out my personal style. I’m just now realizing that the key is making sure I feel like myself in what I wear — which is often yellow, lavender, sage green, and floral prints. Otherwise, I cannot pay attention to fashion trends to save my life. They genuinely go right over my head. I’m not that trendy in general tbh. Also, I prefer being outside during the day and in bed by 9pm. I am indeed a grandma.
To summarize: I am not that type of NYC girl, but everything on my screens has made me feel like I need to be and I’m finally rejecting it in favor of being me, loving me, knowing that the more I am, the more amazing experiences and people I’ll attract. Most importantly, I know I’ll feel a lot better.
I’m someone who reads yoga philosophy most mornings as a way to ground myself before the day starts. I’m big on spiritual guidance (think Akashic Records readings, for example) and energy healing. I love working out, which often comes at the expense of my hair that I still haven’t fully figured out how to manage. As much as I thought I’d graduate college, climb the corporate ladder, be a figurehead in marketing and make a bunch of money when I moved here 6.5 years ago, I am so not corporate at all. Respectfully, I’m too real for that shit. My music taste is mostly stuck in the 90s and early 2000s — though I do have a soft spot for rappers from the South. Yoga and writing and reading and running are all things that make me feel really good. I'll preface this next part by saying I do have rhythm, but I’m most joyful dancing like no one’s watching in my apartment alone and sort of off beat.
P.S. I cannot twerk but the next time I visit Nashville I'm going to make my sister and nieces teach me.
Whew, glad we got that out of the way. Hopefully you’re getting the picture by now.
I never thought it would be a challenge to be real about who I am, but if I look back on the past near decade, it was probably one of the things I struggled with the most. Being a black girl who grew up on the South Side of Chicago with a granola mom and an (absent) father who converted to a Yoruba religion, became an African priest and is the real reason I have to explain to everyone why I’m black American with a full Nigerian name is uh, tough. But that’s me. The more I embrace it, the better I feel.
Really being myself, without the worry that someone will think I’m weird or quirky or not put together enough, has made me feel amazing. It’s still very much a work in progress, but I’ve had some wins. The more I layer my personality into my yoga and sculpt classes, the more my students come up to me afterwards to talk about random things or express how much they liked the class. My friend had a birthday recently and I wore an outfit that felt like it matched my personality. All the girls complimented me on how cute I looked. I’m back to being the one who calls out company leadership on their bullshit when no one else wants to say anything and damn, does it feel good to be that little a**hole again.
What I’ve come to find out is that if I don’t accept and love all the pieces of me, it makes it harder to live the life I desire. It’s taken time, like most big realizations, but I’m glad I got here. It’s actually pretty fun to pause, think about how I can make my actions most authentically me, and proceed to live life that way.
WHO WOULDA THOUGHT?!
It’s time to get off my soapbox, but before I go, I’d love a little feedback. Do y’all like this updated newsletter format? Is there anything you wish you heard from me about? And the real heavy-hitter: are there ways in which you might be sacrificing your own authenticity due to the invisible pressure of your external environment?
Had to throw that one in there. Anyway, chile. My inbox and DMs are open and I can’t wait to hear from you. Talk to you next month 💛