i am simply a museum of everything i've ever loved

who exactly are we?

growing up i always put myself in a box. a metaphorical box sure, but a box nonetheless.

who was isabela?

to put it simply i am a daughter, a sister, a future mother, a future entrepreneur, a friend, etc etc.

but who really am i?

i often struggle with that question. to every person i have ever met i am a different person. to some i may be an evil bitch and to others i may be the kindest girl they’ve ever known. or maybe i am simply nothing at all.

of all of the perceptions of myself out in the universe, how am i supposed to truly know who i am in this world? sure i can often be kinder, maybe my jokes aren’t always the funniest, maybe i wasn’t always a good friend, i could have probably been a better girlfriend, better daughter, better sister.

but how do these parts all mold into who i really am - and will i ever truly have an answer that feels adequate to myself?

i, like many others subject myself to the insanely cruel process of perception. i often find myself stalking my own social medias, and rereading conversations i have had with people, wondering to myself about how i am being perceived. (not even in a narcissistic way- though i do sometimes like admiring myself) but finding myself questioning my attractiveness, not even for just simple validation - just the plain curiosity of whether or not my insecurities are also present to others as they are to me.

what do people think when they hear my name? will i forever be haunted by bad decisions i made in adolescence or will eventually those perceptions fade away and new ones will be formed?

in the process of growing up and becoming the newest versions of ourselves, we take pieces of other people we’ve encountered with us. even without realization.

i am a museum of everything i have loved

it’s a sentiment that has become ever-so prevalent in my mind and how i view myself recently.

i think the smell of leather, and the scent of an exhaust pipe on a harley that’s just been turned on is comforting - it reminds me of my father. the version of him that existed before illness plagued him and changed my life. i think hospitals are scary and they smell like hopelessness, they remind me of when he was sick. i think the smell of hamburgers is gross, but that's likely because i have never had one. i think the blues and jazz are some of the most meaningful categories of music because when all the lights were dimmed and i was supposed to be in bed and crept out, my father and i would dance to it before he eventually put me back to bed.

i cannot hear the word “buffalo” without thinking of my bestfriend ever since she left for college. i can’t hear the song clarity come on without mentioning my friend colleen, or seeing a tall blonde without thinking of brayden (or aioli in regards to the two of them but i digress).

if i can associate so many people with so many things, who’s to say that same sentiment doesn’t apply to me? why must i change the rules of my own mind games?

i love wearing heels because my mother did as well, and i love fashion because of my aunt jolie’s taste in style and how she always inspired me. i find comfort in having a cigarette because even though i know it’s “wrong”, the smell of smoke always reminded me of my mother. i love having black hair because i look more like my older sister, who was always the epitome of cool to me. i love star wars because of my brothers and having to listen about their interest in it growing up. i do rollers whenever i want a blowout because my grandmother traditionally did hers weekly and i always thought she was so elegant with them. (even if i lack that grace)

what traits of mine have i rubbed off without intention that now affect my peers?

will we as people ever stop carrying the fear of perception? or will we always subconsciously wonder about what other people see us as?

i don’t think i’ll ever have a lifelong answer that will be a sufficient enough revelation for this question, maybe we’ll just continue picking up pieces of others as we stack them into who we are today, tomorrow, and continuing.

xo,

belle.