I had a really interesting conversation with a friend recently. He told me it made him uncomfortable when I showed a different side of myself—one connected to a different lifestyle. A more bougie one. I had been on vacation, spending time with a different circle of friends, and he struggled with seeing that version of me.
I immediately caught myself making excuses in my head, trying to make that part of my life seem smaller, almost as if I had to justify it. But why? It's part of me. It's part of the life I created. A life I barely shared for years because I was afraid people would reject it—and eventually reject me.
While my thoughts were spiraling, I stopped myself. Instead of doing what I had always done—making myself smaller—I asked him a simple question:
"Why does it make you uncomfortable?"
His answer was genuine, and it immediately took away the heaviness I had been feeling. He said, "Because it makes me feel insecure. I'm afraid that's who you'll only be from now on."
That's when I told him something I wish more people understood: I'm all of those people and not one version (not in a "bipolar" way haha). I'm the bougie, high-heel girl who loves beautiful hotels, fancy dinners, and dressing up. But I'm also the person who happily wears the same bikini for a month, walks around barefoot, and spends every day surfing.
I love being loud, and I love silence. I love socializing, and I also love disappearing for days. I love the city, and I need nature. I love training hard and be healthy, and sometimes I love getting completely fucked up. I'm mentally strong—until I'm not. I laugh a lot, and I cry a lot. I change my outfit ten times a day because I enjoy experimenting with different styles.
I love all of it. Because all of it is me.
What I don't love anymore is apologizing for it. Shrinking myself. Hiding parts of who I am to make other people more comfortable.
None of us is just one straightforward person, even though social media often tries to convince us otherwise. We are constantly changing. We are made up of contradictions, talents, passions, needs, dreams, and different versions of ourselves.
I think many of us are simply too afraid to bloom fully and show all of it. I feel the same. Maybe also because it is hard to accept some of the versions, for a variety of reasons. And the truth is, it doesn't matter if that makes someone else uncomfortable. That's their discomfort—not yours.
Instead of admitting their own insecurities, some people would rather make someone else feel like they're "too much." They'll tell you, you've changed for the worse, when in reality, you've just become more yourself.
And honestly, that needs to change.
Sometimes it feels like the world is losing its colors. People are losing their individuality. We're slowly becoming an army of people who look alike, think alike, behave alike, and desperately try to fit in.
We're losing our spark. Our weirdness. Our courage.
It's hard to break out of that cycle because it feels uncomfortable. It feels unsafe. But imagine if more people did. Imagine how much easier it would become for everyone else to do the same.
So if this resonates with you, promise me one thing:
Get the fuck out of your comfort zone.
Be the beautifully complex individual you're supposed to be.
You're supposed to be different.
You're supposed to shine.
You're allowed to annoy people.
You're allowed to make people uncomfortable simply because you don't fit into their story they've created about you. That's on them. Let them deal with it.
The way you choose to live authentically might inspire more people than you realize. While you're sitting there doubting yourself, someone else is looking at you wondering how you had the courage to become so unapologetically yourself.
So please—don't shrink yourself anymore. Leave behind the people who can't stand to see you shine. They are simply not your people. The right ones will find you the brighter you shine.
And as for the story from the beginning?
We're still friends. After I explained that I was tired of making myself smaller, tired of hiding parts of who I am, and that all of these different sides are still me, we found common ground.
And honestly? I was a bit proud of myself for standing up for who I am. I'm also grateful that he was honest enough to admit that his initial reaction had very little to do with me. It turned into a beautiful lesson in boundaries, honesty, and self-worth.
xx baj.