as most girls will understand: i’ve always loved pinterest.
and in high school, I didn’t just use it to pin outfits or decorate dream apartments (though I did a lot of that): it was primarily a place where I let myself dream.
because i was the girl who believed in magic, hope and possibility. the girl who imagined endless scenarios, who stepped in and out of visions of my life I knew I would one day live.
but somewhere along the way, I lost it.
i was tricked by the guile of accolade and traded magic for milestones. swapped daydreams for deadlines. and eventually, instead of asking who I wanted to be, I asked: what major should choose, which title should I chase, and how much salary should I ask for.
i was being practical, after all.
but in truth, I was playing a game I could never win.
I didn’t know anything. and that cost me everything.
then I found myself on a flight from new york with my tail between my legs, contemplating my proverbial fig tree.
each fig was a version of my life I longed for: the software developer, the artist, the entrepreneur, the daughter, the lover, the girlfriend. each fig ripe and full of promise.
and i sat there in coach, paralyzed. because choosing one meant losing the others. i sat idle as i watched the figs wither and drop to the ground, one by one.
and as i barreled toward california, i inched closer to my epiphany.
that we were all told we could be anything, love anyone, experience everything. and we are punished no matter our choice.
we grew up multi-passionate, gifted, and full of promise. and then we’re flattened into abridged versions of ourselves.
then we wonder, on a Sunday night, why we’re crying uncontrollably in the bath tub. we think it’s because we’re crazy, or worse, ungrateful. when in reality, we’re drowning.
drowning in expectations.
drowning in debt.
drowning in image.
drowning in that place between who we are and who we’ve been told to become.
and the numbers corroborate our tears.
depression among teen girls in the U.S. rose from 8.1% in 2009 to 15.8% in 2019, steeper than any rise in boys’ depression rates.
women carry nearly 2/3 of all student loan debt in the U.S, whilst straining under a persistent (albeit routinely denied) gender pay gap.
and further, safety erodes: one in five women in the U.S. will experience attempted or actual rape in their lifetime.
we carry trauma at young age, and still wonder why it still hits like a wave we can’t outrun.
and while the world fails us, where do we go?
funnily enough, pinterest.
though yet another deeply flawed corporation: for the millions who use it globally, pinterest is a women-led marketplace and (however sad) the one place all parts of us can dream and thrive.
because when women are given the tools, the community, and the inspiration to dream again, we don’t just change our own lives. we improve life, everywhere.
so here’s your permission slip, girl who’s going places: you can be complicated. you can live multiple dreams and hold many lives. you can create from your manifold truth.
and this series is your official invitation. be messy, show up, and build the dream you were always meant for.
because you and i, we’re going places.
and this is the map.
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