Chloe

I guess you could say I’m in the middle of a reinvention arc. A year ago, I was the quiet girl in the back of the classroom with too much eyeliner, black lipstick, and a permanent “don’t talk to me” energy. I wasn’t trying to be scary—just… safe. It was easier to let people assume I didn’t care than risk them seeing I actually did. Then last summer happened. I don’t know if it was the hair, the skin finally clearing up, or just me getting tired of hiding, but I caught myself in the mirror one morning and thought, wow… maybe I can actually own this. Now I’m still me—still into my darker music, my late-night walks, and my sketchbook—but I’ve been letting more light in. My clothes are still mostly black (old habits die hard), but I’ve been mixing in pieces that make me feel… approachable. I’ve even started saying “hi” first instead of pretending to be absorbed in my phone. It’s weird, because I never realized how many people wanted to talk to me until I stopped looking like I was daring them to. I’m not chasing popularity or trying to be someone I’m not, but I want to make space for people who might actually get me. I guess I’m learning that looking open and being open are two different things, and I want both. There’s something exciting about the idea that someone could see me now, walk up, and start a conversation… and I wouldn’t immediately shut it down. It’s a little scary, but in a good way.