I came upon a realization recently...shit. I'm not happy.

It took a lot for me to realize this simply because who wants to admit they aren't a happy person? And why admit that in the first place? Well, because I'm Profresh and we keeps it REAL around these parts...

Truthfully, these past two years in NYC (I KNOW!) have been so crazy: new jobs, new territory, new home skillets, new life, new everything. I felt myself changing (change is good) and all for what? What was my purpose of moving to New York in first place? And then I remembered. I moved here for the hustle, the excitement and the allure of changing your entire life to be whoever it was that you wanted to be. And I did that. My blog took off, I landed my dream career, I live in an amazing apartment, have an awesome roommate + my baby girl Pippa and all felt right. Or at least, did.

There had been something missing and I couldn't really name what it was. I suppose I felt fulfilled as I accomplished all my goals moving here so maybe it was more of a now what? Fast forward a few weeks to last week. I was going about my day and stopped in the middle of busy midtown, surrounded by people hustling, skyscrapers and all types of businesses going about their day. I felt absolutely nothing. I didn't care for the surroundings. I cared for going home to my apartment. I cared nothing for the environment I was in and cared for my well put-together home and my puppy. And the realization came. I wasn't ME. I hardly touched the blog in weeks(ssss), I went through the motions at work but felt passionless and became sort of robotic. Wake up, go to work, come home, cook, take pippa out, go to sleep. Repeat 5 days a week. Weekends exclusively for sleeping. I hadn't even socialized. SERIOUSLY.

So, I'm starting from square one. I'm going back to what makes me happy. Making people laugh makes me so happy, entertaining people, having fun with life, despite its' shortness and truly, I'm happy when I'm writing here. It's my release, it's my motivation. This blog means so much to me, means everything. I've said it before but I'll say it again. Fuck the rules and regulations of fashion blogging. Fuck the celebritaunt world I've involved myself in. It's not me. I'm the weird one, the awkward size 8/10 who's neither thin nor plus size. I'm the girl who has no filter, brands hate her and most people don't know what to do with her. I'm the girl that tells it like it was and most definitely will always be true to herself. Style and fashion is something that will always be a part of me so yup, the narcissistic side will live here too. I'm just doing what I love to do because fuck it, I pay for this shit.

But there's no way I'm alone in this.. right? Have you been feeling like shit lately? Maybe it's because you're not doing what's making YOU happy. Whether you're at a job you absolutely hate, live with awful roommates (including your parents), are in college but have no clue why, producing a fashion blog with no real identity to the real person you are or just doing the daily things with no excitement... then take a few steps back boo. Reflect on what's bugging you. I did. And realized it's not my environment. It's me. I wasn't doing ME. As Shaniqua as that sounds, it's true.

If you've been in a funk, let me know. I'm curious to see if I've been in one alone or if we're all riding out together.

P.S. Little secret about my younger days. In 11th grade, I used to want to be called DeDe (like Day-Day).. because my middle name is Dee. But it was revoked in my "clique" because another girl's name was DeDe so... there's that. #hood #notsurprising

So, if you haven't been a funk, tell me a little secret you little creeps.