Journaling Through Life

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🏷️ THE INTERNAL DIALOGUE | Part 3: The Wall

In my early 30s, after losing over 100 pounds, the world decided I finally belonged in the 'Pretty' box.

I’ll be honest: I expected the world to get easier. I thought the 'Pretty' label was a VIP pass to belonging. Instead, I found myself standing in front of a new kind of wall.

As a 'fat girl,' I was invisible. As a 'pretty woman,' I was a target or a threat—but I was rarely just a person. I began to see how this new label created a minefield for friendships:

The Cold Shoulder: I found it nearly impossible to make new female friends. There was a new standoffishness—a coldness I hadn't experienced before. It was as if my appearance acted as a barrier, making people see a 'competitor' rather than a potential friend.

The Expiration Date: My relationships with men changed, too. I lost the ability to have simple, platonic friendships. Every new connection seemed to have an expiration date where an 'ulterior motive' would eventually surface.

I went from being the 'outcast' who was ignored to the 'pretty girl' who was isolated.

It was a bizarre realization: the more I fit society's 'ideal' physical standards, the harder it became to find genuine, agenda-free human connection. People were looking at me more than ever, but they were seeing me less than they ever had.

The 'pretty' label didn't bring me closer to people; it just changed the shape of the wall between us.

Did you have a label—good or bad—that kept people from seeing the real you?"

🏷️ THE INTERNAL DIALOGUE | Part 1: The Imposter Costume

For years, I’ve been walking around in what I call the ‘Imposter Costume.’ It’s the professional attire, the degrees on the wall, and the vocabulary of someone who ‘has it all figured out.’ But inside, the childhood label of the ‘Dumb Student’ is still whispering that I’m just playing dress-up.

When people treat me with respect now, there’s still a part of me that wonders if they’re just responding to the 'polished' version of me I present to the world, rather than the person I’m still becoming inside. I’m waiting for the moment someone realizes I’m just a 'glitchy' kid in a very nice blazer.

This is the core of Imposter Syndrome. It’s the inability to internalize your own accomplishments. Psychologically, we attribute our success to external factors—like luck, timing, or 'fooling people'—while attributing our struggles to internal flaws. We are auditing the costume today to realize that the person wearing it earned the right to be in the room—glitches and all.

We all have a version of ourselves we present to the world while our internal dialogue is busy second-guessing every move. What does your 'Imposter Costume' look like? And what is the one childhood label that makes you feel like you’re just playing a part? 🏷️✨

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Looks about right 😂😂😂 snort

🏷️ THE LABEL AUDIT | Part 2: The "Dumb" Student vs. The Nerd

Getting lost in learning was my escape when the world weighed me down. But for the longest time, I only saw myself through the lens of a childhood label: 'The Dumb Student.' I was convinced that intellectual depth just wasn't in my coding.

With each degree or certificate that I earned, and even when I made huge advancements in my career, I convinced myself it was pure luck that got me there. I was sure I was just fooling everyone into thinking I was smart. Even as I grew older and found sanctuary in books and research, that original 'ghost' in my machine kept telling me I was just faking it. It took auditing the data to realize I wasn't dumb; I just hadn't found the right file to open yet.

Psychologically, this is a classic example of Cognitive Dissonance. My brain was holding two conflicting pieces of data: the historical label of 'low intelligence' versus the current proof of my deep intellectual curiosity and capacity for complex learning. Dissonance creates mental discomfort. To resolve that tension, our brains often choose the path of least resistance—the old, comfortable label—even if it's incorrect. We are auditing the files that no longer reflect the system's true processing power."

The label of 'dumb' was assigned by others, but I was the one maintaining it in my internal operating system. I’ve spent years trying to reconcile my actual life with those old, limiting narratives from my childhood. I’m officially calling for a manual override. What’s an old, 'glitchy' label from your childhood that you’re finally ready to stop believing? 🏷️✨

New Series: Internal Dialogue 🧠💬

We’ve been talking a lot about the labels the world sticks on us—the "boxes" that strangers, classmates, and even friends try to fit us into. But while those external labels can be heavy, I’ve realized they aren't the loudest voices in the room.

The loudest voice is the one inside.

I’m starting a side-series called "Internal Dialogue." While “The Label Audit” is about the external world, this series is about the "secret files" we keep on ourselves.

It’s about the outdated "software" our brains are still running. It’s about the way we talk to ourselves in the mirror when no one else is listening, and the way we often hold ourselves to a "standard of perfection" we would never expect from a friend.

Even after losing over 100 pounds, discovering my learning style, and finding my voice, I still catch my brain trying to use my old "outcast" settings. I’ve realized that I can’t just change my life; I have to change the conversation I’m having with myself about it.
In these side stories, I’ll be sharing:

• The "Imposter" voice that tells me I’m just wearing a costume.
• The way my childhood "Permanent Record" still tries to dictate my adult choices.
• The battle between the "Old Me" and the "New Me."

We are our own longest-running conversation. It’s time we made sure that conversation was a kind one.

What is one "label" you’ve given yourself that you’re ready to stop believing? Let’s talk about it in the comments. 👇

The Label Audit | Part 1: The Mirror

I call these "Observations from a Fat Girl" because even though I am over 100 pounds lighter than I was in my 20s, that is still the girl who taught me how to see the world. When I look in the mirror today, she is still the one looking back at me.

Growing up as an "outcast" in a wealthy community, I was assigned a very specific set of labels by the time I hit puberty: Extremely overweight. Unattractive. Dumb. Socially awkward.

For the first half of my life, I lived inside those boxes. I navigated the world through the lens of someone who didn't quite "fit." I learned to watch people, to study their reactions, and to understand the silent language of being overlooked.

In my 30s, I literally became half the person I was. My physical shape changed, and suddenly, the world decided I belonged in a different box. But here’s the thing about "labels"—they are often stuck on the outside by people who haven't read the book.

The world sees the "new" version. But the "Fat Girl" is the one who gave me my empathy. She’s the one who taught me that a person’s worth has nothing to do with their silhouette. She is my internal compass, and she’s the reason I’ve started to perform a "Label Audit" on my life—examining the biases we all carry without even knowing it.

Over the next few posts, I want to share the fascinating (and sometimes heartbreaking) things I’ve observed while "shape-shifting" through different societal labels—from the "Pretty" box to the "Dumb Blonde" sub-label, and everything in between.

I’m curious—if you look past the "labels" the world has given you, who is the person in the mirror that only you truly know?