We’ve all been there.
We spend an hour getting ready. Three days not eating after 8pm. We stand in front of the Evil Mirror and try to squash every little imperfection we see so when we finally make it to that party or that event or that show, we can feel “good” or “sexy” or “confident” – whatever the hell that means.
We put layers on our face so we can hide the way we hate our skin and our insecurities. We straighten and flatten and gloss everything over so we can feel HOT. Then we roll up to the party or whatever like we are fierce and we have our shit together. We have an expectation vs. reality moment.
We know the person we’ve been hoping to run into/internet stalking/instagram liking will be there. We know the person we’re supposed to “network” with will have an…
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