You ever just... look at your life, at the choices you’ve made, and wonder how the hell you got here? Like, truly, how did *this* become the thing? I’m talking about the kind of thing that started small – an innocent 'what if' – and then spiraled into this elaborate, exhausting charade that defines way too much of your day-to-day. You know, the constant chasing, the trying to keep up. I’m in fashion, supposedly. Freelance, of course. Which means I’m always hustling, always pitching, always praying a check actually comes through. So when the bills started piling up, and the 'opportunities' weren't paying nearly what they promised, something in my brain just... snapped. It started with one dress. A beautiful, totally out-of-my-budget designer piece that I just *needed* for a shoot. For content. For exposure, obviously. Take the photos, look effortlessly chic, return it the next day. No harm, no foul, right? Except the likes went crazy. The followers surged. And suddenly, that one dress turned into an entire rack of clothes, shoes, accessories – a whole *lifestyle* that wasn't mine. You know that gnawing feeling in your stomach when you’re walking out of the store with thousands of dollars worth of clothes, knowing damn well they’ll be back on the hanger in 24 hours? And then the ABSURD lengths you go to, to get the perfect shot – lighting, angles, finding the right urban backdrop that screams 'effortless cool' – all while hyper-aware of the return window closing. And now? It’s an addiction. A compulsion. People DM me asking where I got this or that, saying I’m an inspiration. An influencer. I've built this whole thing on a foundation of… borrowed style. And I can’t stop. The thought of going back to my actual, very meager wardrobe feels like admitting defeat. Like losing everything I’ve ‘built.’ Is that weird? Does everyone feel this constant pressure to be more than they actually are? To project an image that’s just… better? Because I’m so tired. So goddamn tired of the smiling, the posing, the pretending. But the alternative – the reality – feels so much WORSE.