Hey Kaleigh!

Tag: blog

  • On The Clean Girl Aesthetic

    Image by Edward Berthelot

    I used to think I was too plain to fit into the “clean girl aesthetic.” That my acne prone skin needed to clear up. That I needed to trade something inside of me. That I would never be “clean” enough.

    But I shouldn’t have kept my guard up. Not over a Tiktok trend. You don’t need approval to feel stylish. You are perfect. You are not some fad. You are already enough. And somehow, being squeaky clean feels suspicious. Because trends change. Not just what looks good, but even the peace in what feels good.

    And if I’m honest, I sometimes find myself growing captivated with this idea that I need to look the proper part. And once I look better, things will fall into place like some sort of denouement. Something colossal and revolutionary. Taylor Swift’s hugest glitter gel pen hits play as my soundtrack.

    A beautiful vibe. But real life is messier than this. The clean girl aesthetic is a cool foundation only if you’ve already found peace in what feels good to you.

    Being a “clean girl” shouldn’t feel unattainable. Following trends is fun. Trying new things feels freeing. Sometimes playing along is the best way to get to know yourself.

    I envision being “clean” feels exciting. But exciting is full of drama. It’s a bit bizarre in a way, that you are freaky if you dry your hair with a Revlon rather than a Dyson. Things feel oddly ordinary. We are caught between wanting authenticity and getting held hostage by it.

    Yet I love the clean girl aesthetic. My skincare routine is the highlight of my day. I just don’t know if performing polish is as satisfying as it looks.

    But what I do know is this: silly little trends make me happy.

    And I hope there’s enough happiness for everyone. Enough room for confidence and uncertainty. Enough space for us all to be beautiful in our own ways.

    Because maybe I’m not “clean girl” enough. But I am whole. And I have been whole all along.

  • I Think I Love Myself

    There’s an identity I tend to slip into.

    She always knows exactly what to say. She explains her innermost thoughts eloquently. I yearn to be like her. She lives in her delusions, dreams in lattes, and keeps an airy hope brewing in her mind at all times.

    I ache to be her.

    I ache to be fully myself.

    Sometimes I believe in signs from the universe, the small coincidences that feel like cheeky little winks. I believe in the spirals, the doubt, the midnight snacks, the “am I pretty” messages to strangers online. The assumptions. The acceptance. The constant questioning of who I am.

    My life is a jumble of contradictions.

    Stretching my wings feels like a workout. Painful. Awkward. Transformative.

    There’s a hidden message in that, and hidden secrets that I carry with me.

    So I love this wholesome persona.

    She’s the part of me that longs to grow up, to outgrow the naivete, but is still exactly where she is meant to be.

  • I’m Afraid I’ll Never Be Enough for Myself

    Image from Pexels

    There’s this fantasy that I carry with me. It’s warm, magnetic, and inviting. In it, I step out of my comfort zone the way I tread the sidewalk: confident and not second-guessing a thing.

    But if this day ever comes, I’m doubtful that it will still feel like enough. Not in the way it does in my daydreams. I want something that truly nourishes me. Something that erases my flaws and keeps me from flinching at my own reflection.

    The trouble is, this version of me only exists in my head.

    I’d like to think I’m laid-back, but in reality I manage my emotions like a drill sergeant, especially when it comes to my anxiety. I am careful to the point of obsession. I’m particular — and like to know everything in advance. I’ve wasted years trying on which personality fits me best. I am leery of loving myself, because what if she doesn’t love me back?

    Reality is not kind. It critiques me. It rationalizes with me like the devil on my left shoulder. It evaluates me by how quickly my metabolism works after I give in and have a snack. It betrays me. And I am afraid it will shatter my fantasy.

    And I don’t know if I can handle the truth right now.

    I don’t mean to sound dramatic. I am just a bit apprehensive. Like a jittery emoji. I am constantly on edge and can’t find it in me to trust what others say.

    I am scared of what I truly am. That no one will ever be fond of my soft spots. That I’ll always be an unfinished draft.

    But maybe being unfinished is its own kind of wholeness. Maybe not having it all figured out is simply another model of completeness.

    Maybe someday someone will love me not in spite of my rough edges, but because of them.

    Maybe who I am will change with the seasons. Maybe each day will be the start of a new chapter.

  • Friendship Shouldn’t Feel Like an Audition

    Image from Pinterest

    You are not meant to fit into every room. The right friends will always make space for you as you are.

    I didn’t always know that. I used to think that friendship and acquaintanceship were the same thing. And while there may be some accuracy to this, I’ve learned that friendships are usually something that happens freely and unexpectedly. Sometimes, friendship is candidly grabbing a drink after work. It’s belly-laughing. Paying attention to the things they want to share with you. It’s the way that friendship feels easy, even when life feels difficult.

    Friendship is not always graceful. It’s awkward. It’s realizing that their life doesn’t mirror yours. It is embracing the things you have in common and the things that set you apart.

    Still, I sometimes lose my personality to match someone else’s, worrying about if I will “fit in,” because we are too different. I hastily hide all of my nuances. But I am wonderfully complicated — we all are. I am someone who cries over the genocide in Gaza and over the Building the Band finale. You can be someone who does both.

    You are allowed to be a little bit of everything.

    The things we often try so hard to hide — our weird habits, our past mistakes, our fantasies that may not be an arm’s reach away — are the specific traits that tie us to true connections. This is what makes us absolutely ourselves. And being yourself will always beat forcing chemistry with just anyone.

    So here is the truth: you do not need to shrink to find close friends. You are worthy of love, and your group is out there. You are full.

    And to someone out there, you are #1.

    Because friendship is about showing up, messy and honest, and trusting that the right people will lean in. Because in the end, friendship isn’t meant to be hard. It’s meant to be real.

  • Shaped By the Struggle

    Image from iStock

    There is a certain kind of trouble in knowing what is wrong but not how to settle the problem.

    This is how my problems feel sometimes: like some inexplicable trap. Complicated and agonizing just for the sake of it. A trap where the light at the end of the tunnel is just a veneer.

    But recently, I’ve begun to grasp that not every problem needs to be solved. Not just in the way I recall all of my “could’ve would’ve should’ve” moments when I’m stretched thin, but in the way that delicately feeling my emotions — all of them — heals me.

    This is how I am realizing that I often let my problems consume me. I should really let them form me.

    Now, I’m not saying, “I demand that all my problems disappear.” But instead, I am calling myself out on my own b.s. To stop crying over minor inconveniences. I’ve learned that your storyline can adjust when you no longer fit the narrative. That you can feel accomplished while also bothered that everything is falling apart.

    Sometimes I find that my troubles shrink when I concern myself with who I am versus who I worry about. Rather than polishing my Instagram feed and overexplaining my life decisions, like I’m in a Love Island confessional, I’m agreeing to let my life glisten without the fillers.

    I don’t think my approach is a lousy one. I used to be scared of this approach, but now I call it protecting my peace.

    Real life is not an aesthetic. The glow fades fast, things feel intense, wounds run deep, problems come back stronger, and you still make the same blunders.

    We all have errors we wish we could hide away. Our “this wasn’t my noblest decision” moments. But none of my breakdowns made me a failure — they made me gentler. Empathetic. More human.

    At the end of the day, I don’t love the struggle, but I can’t ignore how it’s shaped me.

    The bad taught me to see the good, and maybe that’s the point. To be able to look at everything and say: “This is my life and it is perfectly imperfect.”

  • Learning to Love the In-Progress Version of Me

    Image from Pexels

    I really thought that by 23 I would feel glamorous with a clear direction. I pictured myself as the kind of woman who wakes up at 6am for fun.

    But one day I woke up, glanced in the mirror, and thought: Wow, I’m an adult now. How did this happen? This image of me just came into existence one day. Not quite the successful woman I imagined.

    Turns out, entering true adulthood is not a glow-up montage with the best early 2000s romcom soundtrack. It is more like a winding road full of wrong turns, detours, and dead ends.

    And the hardest part is facing all of the routes you’ve been avoiding.

    When you strip away the identities you’ve been performing, you realize that you haven’t left yourself with much.

    Are you still you once everyone has stopped paying attention?

    This is what being in your 20s feels like: searching for yourself in a world that encourages you to be anyone but you.

    And let’s be honest, figuring out who you are can be an exhausting process, especially in a world obsessed with glow-ups and fast-fashion. Figuring out who you are feels like running a 5K in stilettos.

    Sometimes a breakthrough is simply saying no to what doesn’t feel right. Other times it’s unlearning the false ideas you believed. It is letting go, even if everyone else is telling you to hold on. It is choosing the in-progress version of yourself, even if she’s not trending on Tiktok.

    Here is what I am learning:

    Figuring out who you are is messy (and that’s okay).

    You know yourself better than anyone else.

    So no, I haven’t figured out who I am yet. But paying closer attention is the first step, and it feels like the most grown up thing I’ve done so far.

  • I’m Not Lost, Just Loitering in My Twenties

    Image from Alamy

    I’ve spent years trying to “find myself.”

    I started college already imagining who I would be on graduation day. I navigated student government and group projects and maneuvered how to responsibly delegate tasks to my peers while still being a great friend. I crossed uncharted territory with care even when I felt unorganized.

    And yet…here I am at 23, still wondering who I am.

    I’m still figuring out how to make friends at this age, because it’s hard, but it’s still significant to put yourself out there.

    I’m still powering through mean girls in the adult world.

    I’m still single (shocker!) and deciding what I want my love life to look like. I’m learning how to stop giving myself a thumbs down in the mirror and questioning if I even deserve that love life.

    I don’t know my favorite season.

    I still don’t like the sound of my voice or that my statements often sound like questions. I feel like I constantly need to confess that I am still figuring it out, but I so badly want to be unapologetic.

    I wish to take things day-by-day, but my brain insists on spiraling. I want to be intentional and spontaneous at the same time. I want to stop overcompensating for my insecurities.

    I want to live a life that is purposeful and desirable.

    The truth is: I appreciate my life. Much of my gratitude comes from acknowledging the unplanned and ugly moments that eventually became core memories.

    The story of my life is one of a kind, but is it a bestseller? Does it grant me as much pride as it should? Are my choices – good and bad – going to help me grow? Will it ever be enough?

    Will I ever choose to go easy on myself?

    Have I already lived out my prime? Did I miss it?

    What do I do when minor inconveniences feel like super catastrophes?

    How do I keep going when I’m facing so much difficulty? 

    Will I ever learn to be gentle with myself?

    The most complicated lessons I am learning are the ones that don’t have easy answers. I can’t Google whether I am pretty or slender enough. Instead, I have to figure it out alone – in the disaster zone that is my brain. These lessons can sometimes make me feel even more fragile.

    I’m not shattering myself as some kind of excuse. I am constantly transforming. Continually finding my voice. I am continually filled with knowledge but never quite sure what to do with it. I am still learning how to be alright when everything feels all wrong. Everything is still coming to me. So I will leave you with this:

    Not everything you do or say demands to be picture-perfect. 

    You are constantly changing and each version of you is still deserving.

    You are still smart enough when you have the wrong answers.

    You are going to mess up. That is okay. Tomorrow is a new day.

    Life happens, and none of us survive it, so go easy on yourself.

    I don’t know who I am yet. But I know who I am becoming, and she’s learning to be kinder.

  • Who Are You?

    Image from iStock

    This isn’t polished, it’s a mood. I’m having a weird day full of writer’s block and asking myself too many questions.

    Sometimes, I have these days where I feel like I am just meeting myself for the first time. I lose sight of who I am. I neglect my emotions and clumsily set myself up for something awkward. These moments come out of nowhere and I suddenly feel like a stranger in my own body.

    Sometimes it is an angsty speech. 

    Sometimes it is the awe of a beautiful moment.

    Sometimes it is peace that causes me to get lost.

    Regardless, I still find myself wondering: Who are you, Kaleigh?

    I’ve never claimed to be traditional. But I believe each day shapes me. Sculpting me into who I am and who I am meant to become.

    My Inner Monologue

    When my personality blooms, I feel amplified – like this heightened charisma will allow me to be seen. Like I am improving and attracting myself to the life I daydream about. But then comes the struggle: I said something charming. But am I charming?

    I want to be that alluring girl with “bedroom eyes” who always knows what to say. But instead I’ve had boys on dating apps tell me I have crazy eyes. I laugh too hard at my own jokes. I talk too much instead of using my mouth for other things. I fumble.

    Is it worth it to put so much effort into trying to walk this impossible line: 

    Being a girlboss, but not too bossy.

    The first time I saw the Barbie movie, I sat in the theater stunned. Because for years, I have carried this backpack full of burdens. Invisible, but heavy. Hearing my inner monologue reminds me that I hold on to all of my anxieties.

    The voice is always there: self-correcting and self-defeating.

    She reminds me that no matter how I grow, I’m still afraid. 

    But maybe the unraveling is the becoming.

    Maybe it’s how I meet the woman I’ve always wanted to be.