These two words got us twisted as f*ck

If you are reading this, high standards and ambition look good on you. Just a gentle reminder, if you will.

A few weeks back, I was having a catch-up with my bestie of nearly 15 years or so, who now lives in Canada (this information is not important, but this is the most accurate representation of being neurospicy, innit?). And we were discussing what had recently happened in both of our lives, and of course, as the calendar year was about to end, we were talking about 2026 goals. Now, mind you, this person has been by my side since I was 20 years old (don’t do the math, abeg), ever since the only long-term boyfriend I ever had broke up with me, leaving me confused with my feelings, questionable self-esteem, and forgotten taste of freedom to do whatever I wanted to do in this life.

Funny, I will never forget that he told me no one is waiting for me out there in the world (I wanted to leave the country I grew up in since I was a young teen). And partly he was correct. Eww, I know.

But also, looking back at that comment, I started to see, with my nearly full frontal lobe development, how much he was scared of my ambition. Probably terrified that I had bigger balls than him (story of my life), terrified to the point that he began to gaslight me into thinking I’d be miserable if I moved anywhere. Yes, no one actually waited for me in any country I moved to (apart from a few friends who were trying their best and helped me when I needed it the most and for that I am grateful), but imagine if I’d listened to that silly man telling me what I can or cannot do. Could never be me.

I’d say my usual, but I digress, but this part of actually a prologue to the point I am trying to make here.

As I was talking to my friend in Canada, who actually was one of our common friends who stuck by my side, chose me in the breakup, and for that I am forever grateful, a true definition of a girl’s girl, I caught myself on a feeling of on the edge between shame and shyness when I was about to spill out of the goals I had in plan.

I want to be famous.

I said, and not going to lie to you, something inside of me felt a bit odd. As if fame was something out of my reach, as it was something very dirty (like that ever stopped me before, girl, please). My friend, however, simply replied: “It’s a great goal for the year, you have what it takes, you’ll achieve it”.

And one thing about her is that she is my lucky 7, and this girl always keeps me honest and brutally honest with me (which we love). So I knew she wasn’t trying to feed my delusion; she was dead serious, and her straightforward honesty somewhat snapped me out of some weird trans I was in all these years.

Basically ashamed in a way to admit I want fame, recognition, and praises for being an expert in styling (though, I am constantly learning tons on how to be better, there is always room for improvement, and I am a strong believer of that), and creative visions I am now opening in myself more and more. I want to be famous for making people feel good, though guiding them on what to wear. Through emotions they feel when they step outside, full of self-confidence and the new ability to move through life differently. Better.

So that got me thinking, how come I wanted to be famous for such wonderful things, yet felt ashamed to pursue it, like I had to do it all almost in secret?

Be humble.

Two words got us twisted as fuck. If you ask me. Or perhaps small people have misinterpreted this phrase, using it as a tool to bring people down. Either way, I truly think these words went overboard. Think about it.

If you dream too big, you should slow down, be a little more humble.

Are you really going to wear this? I think you should relax and be humble about it.

You want all this fame? You should humble yourself.

The last is my “favourite”.

HUMBLE YOURSELF.

Now, WHY the FUCK would I do that? So that some guy feels more comfortable in my presence? So I don’t threaten someone’s narrow mindset of what their surroundings should or should not be like? This is just silly.

Although one thing I did learn is that there is a pleasure in humbling those who tell you to humble yourself.

There is nothing better than replying to the bitter opinions with bitterness. You can always choose to be “the bigger person”, but why? This is also a made-up phrase to keep you from backlash on their own projective vomiting of insecurities.

One thing I need you to remember, moving forward, is that every mean comment that is landing your way is a simple inner projection of the person who’s trying to sting you. And if you need some courage to delete those people from your life, I have a free lecture on how to right here.

Wear what you want, apply to those opportunities you have always dreamt about, showcase your work, and wear your fails with pride.

Don’t let anyone put you in the box.

Those boxes were never meant for you. It was meant for them, and damn, they hate it there, but have no clue how to get out. Let them be, move with determination and grace. They hate to see you coming. They are gasping for air when you come, and it’s beautiful.

Oh, and before I forget:

Book of the week: Beautiful Venom by Rina Kent. I am still on my dark romance bs, judge me all you want, and I strongly suggest listening to the book instead of reading it. You can thank me later x

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Never forget who the fuck you are, bestie x

Okay, that’s all.

Love you, bye xo

Your neurospicy fashion stylist,

Aya x