I feel it’s time for a revamp.
Yes, another revamp.
I am currently sat at my computer in my own little world while my mom is in kitchen, about 20 feet to my right, watching an 80s movie and my dad is in the living room, about 10 feet in front of me, watching a show on cars or boating or maybe a boating family or none of the above, who knows. I’ve lived in the same house my entire life. Hell, I was born in the very bedroom I sleep in now. This house is my home. It couldn’t be more of a home if it tried. But something feels off now. And it’s not that the floors boards are uneven in the kitchen or that we keep busting holes in the floor upstairs.
It’s me. I’m off, I’m growing up and changing.
Just last month on the 31st, I turned 17. I became a nice, ripe 17 year old with dreams and aspirations and no set ways on how to get there. I’ll be starting my last year of high school in just a few days and now I have to really crack down on this whole “future” thing.
About a week and a half ago, it was about 1:30 am and I was the last one up in my house, as I am every night. It was arThis particular night I decided not to go back into the kitchen and watch tv like I had for the past week. Instead I stood behind my computer chair and took a look around at the dark room. Beside the door were posters and things that had been there since I was three. Above the book shelf was a collage of flower clippings I had made when I was six. The “Grammy” my dad and I made for my fourth grade project sat on the bottom of the two shelves. The first bio I had ever written for my first play was up right behind the tv. The bio of picture from last summer of my most amazing and favorite show I’ve ever done, CATS, was above two paintings higher up. And hanging over one corner of the tv was my old snow leopard stuffed animal. Pictures of me and little things I’ve made scatter a shelf in the dining room. I’ve made memory after memory in this house, starting with the strawberry cheesecake my mom made for my third birthday to getting my first rejection over text. I’ve lived in this house. And on this night I realized that sooner or later I’ll be leaving this house.
I’m growing up, moving on and branching out. I want to live in New York, New York. I want to have a life of my own with relationships and fun. I just want to live life. But by moving on and living life, I have to let go (the hardest part).
All of this really got me thinking about my blog and IFB got me thinking about my blog as a brand. Originally I was the The Fashion Outcast, which was like giving my self a nickname though it was kind of cute, different and keyword friendly. Now I’m Rose Petal Rebel but this time I don’t have a reason and I’m not sure about it as a brand. I’m not even a very big fan of roses, if I’m being honest. Only champagne, light pink and red and white bi-color roses. And then I’m not exactly a rebel. I sometimes rebel against my parents and I guess my school work, but most of the time I just follow the rules. The name just doesn’t work for me anymore, I need something that can grow with me. The problem is I don’t exactly know what that name would be yet.
Thing is, I’m a student, first and foremost. I’m a senior in high school and I will (hopefully) be attending college in the fall. Being a student probably affects my life more than anything; I mean, my life, unintentionally really, revolves around school: I wake up in the morning and schedule everything so I can make it out but 7:10, then I go through the day and go home to do my homework and schedule the rest of my night so I can get to bed at a good time so I’m not dead tired in the morning. All my free time is based around school. I am student first and foremost and I’ll be a student for another 5 years, give or take.
And that’s ultimately why I need something different, something that can actually grow with me and if somewhere down the line I have to change again, so be it but right now I want something that can last me those 5 years of school. And even possibly beyond that.
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