I’m 23, black American (with a few other ethnic backgrounds that I don’t care to mention) man with a rebellious nature & an insatiable need to never conform to the societal standards around me. I have a heavy love/ desire to be a personal stylist/ wardrobe stylist but I live in a community that has little to not enough resources to make this dream or “myth” my reality. I come from a family & mother that doesn’t understand me for my “entirety”, because this is either too confusing for them to understand or what I’m about and what I believe in is just something that they’re not down with accepting, because it doesn’t fall in their comfort area - a regular 9-5, a handful of kids and a home somewhere in Wisconsin, you know, the societal normal. forever I’ve been an anathema to some of the very people I’ve run to for help and understanding. I’m a 23 year old struggling dreamer, who never had a real father to share my dreams with, who is not old enough to be taken serious; who is also not young enough to be given any sympathy.
I cannot count how many days I’ve been drained mentally and physically, trying to make a name for myself and be my own person.
I’ve on many occasions driven myself mad, in order to let my creative talent speak for what I love to do.
Even through all of this disappointment and depression I’ve been going through. I won’t give up, I’ll do what’s necessary to be who I want to be.
I’ll gladly throw myself into the fire of hardships to emerge from it and be the man that I want to be.
I’m not stopping.
Because I’m fucking better than that.