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What good is a pretty face if there’s no substance beneath the beauty?

In an older post, I talked about feeling like “Chasing My 20s,” Destiny wasn’t or isn’t as real and raw as Destiny from, “As Told By Destiny…”

One day in October, I remember feeling defeated, unhappy and unmotivated. I didn’t want to eat, socialize, or even get up to turn a light on once the sun had finally set and darkness filled the room.

After battling with my thoughts for about three hours, I found myself lifelessly scrolling through Instagram where I ran across a few different blog posts. Instantly, an epiphany-like feeling washed over me and I realized right then and there that I wasn’t being true to myself. And, that I would continue to feel this way until I revisited my true intentions for blogging and sharing my thoughts with the world.

“As Told By Destiny…” did so well in my eyes because I was Destiny–nothing more, nothing less. I wasn’t trying to live up to false expectations of what a blogger should look and act like. I didn’t care if people “liked” my content, as long as I knew people could relate.

It was then that I knew I wanted to be a voice for the people who felt as though they didn’t have one. Or, that no one would hear them if they did speak up. I wanted people who didn’t even know me to see my words and find comfort in them because they’re raw and relatable.

Wanting a “flawless” brand prevented me from being my authentic self.

I stopped writing about my personal life because I didn’t want people to judge me or feel like they knew something they really had no idea of. In short, I guess I cared too much.

I don’t write for people to just “like” it. I write because it’s relieving; it’s soothing to my soul. My words understand me even when I can’t find the right ones.

I’m not here to write about hot topics or to stir the pot with my social and political views. I’m here to tell a story of substance, to share a journey and to uplift and encourage people along the way.

My purpose is not to be aesthetically pleasing to people who can’t even process the shit I’m saying. It’s not to gain new followers because I’m hip and cute; it’s to share my journey and purpose with the world.

I lost sight of my purpose in the midst of wanting to be accepted and liked for something or someone I would never really be. My creativity was stifled because I wasn’t creating from the true depths of my soul–but instead from the surface of what I thought might get a lot of views, likes or comments. I wanted the perfect site, perfect Instagram photos, perfect everything!

But how can I expect perfection when I’m not perfect?

I’ve been praying for the Lord to guide me, to help me walk in my purpose and to help me embrace my gift.

My gift is my ability to write and translate my thoughts so well; to be able to send a message and use my voice to reach people I may never physically cross paths with. God is using me as a messenger or walking testimony of some sort and that is my purpose.

Finally! The creative breakthrough I tweeted about months ago that never came.

I’m convinced it didn’t come because I wasn’t in the appropriate mental or spiritual headspace to receive it. But somewhere along the way of me praying for intentionality, purpose, guidance and understanding in the things I do and experience, it came. And, just like that, my purpose was restored.

I’m ready to walk in my purpose. I’m ready to be ME again.

For the most part, I did everything I set out to do with my blog in 2017. What I didn’t do, was be real with myself. I spent most of the year trying to fill the shoes of a girl I would never be.

Like I said, I wanted my blog to look “legit.” I wanted the official dot-com domain, professional pictures, and more. I wanted a bomb ass logo, a nice layout — the whole nine.

I got caught up in the beauty of building a brand, having a platform, and portraying a lifestyle I didn’t really know. But in the midst of all the beauty, I forgot about the substance. I forgot the sole reason behind me creating this blog — to use my gift to walk in my purpose.

So I ask myself again…

What good is a pretty face if there’s no substance beneath the beauty?

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