Chest tight with a slight ache in the back of the throat. A neck pain that appeared without fanfare and outwore its status as a guest in my body. For a store that could have the tagline "Treat Yoself," walking into Sephora feels like the prelude to a panic attack for me. It's a reminder that there's huge part of being a woman that continues to elude me. The sheer number of products that I'm expected to crave and use, layer upon layer. I may not love what I see in the mirror every day.
Rouge, the color of anxiety
Rouge, the color of anxiety
Rouge, the color of anxiety
Chest tight with a slight ache in the back of the throat. A neck pain that appeared without fanfare and outwore its status as a guest in my body. For a store that could have the tagline "Treat Yoself," walking into Sephora feels like the prelude to a panic attack for me. It's a reminder that there's huge part of being a woman that continues to elude me. The sheer number of products that I'm expected to crave and use, layer upon layer. I may not love what I see in the mirror every day.