At 12.40am on a Tuesday I found myself avidly watching not one, but two
Justin Bieber Live on Ellen YouTube clips.
I sat with myself in horror as it dawned on me that, dear God, I was enjoying it.
The Backstreet Boys loving girl in me was awakened; try as I might to stuff her back where she came from.
I couldn’t have named a Justin Bieber song until I saw this much sexier Bolynesian Bieleber remake of one of his songs last week Click To Tweet– (if you need a good laugh watch this! I especially enjoyed the dude ironing the door frame.) , which made me hang my head in shame – shit – Justin Bieber’s songs make me feel happy! I’m not proud of this admission, but after I found myself listening to Bieber’s Christmas album a few days later I decided I’d better out myself and seek help.
As a side note – do you know what’s weird?
When I wrote this post in Google Drive, I wrote Beiber and Google asked, “Did you mean Bieber?” Bieber is a dictionary word now? As another side note – everyone (like literally everyone in the crowd) was watching the Ellen Bieber concert through their iPhone screen. That shit is scary.
Like I can talk, I’m the one surfing Bieber clips instead of sleeping.
I’m pretty sure I had a point to this post, but it’s gone, my brain has turned to Bieber mush.
Is it too late now to say sorry? (de de de de de de de)
I used to vehemently avoid and hate on all pop music, pop culture, anything mainstream. Those stupid BComm/ BA kids. Sooooo mainstream.
I was trying very hard to be an architecture student hipster (we were the original hipsters, before it became, like, trendy, you know). Anything colourful and not-high waisted was OUT, mustard yellow and brown knitted high waisted acid wash were IN.
Weird bands no one had heard of were IN, Chris Brown was not in. Pretty sure there was no Biebs back then.
I prided myself on always having good musical tastes ranging across all genres except pop and death metal.
But my avoidance of pop songs that, if I was honest, made me want to grin (also not allowed for hipsters), was really only because I wanted very badly to be cool. I wanted to fit in, and fitting in meant ignoring a lot of stuff that I liked. Like not wearing high-up pants that make me feel sick.
These days I’m announcing to all 4700 of your that I like Justin Bieber songs. Some. Maybe just 3.
I just really don’t care (much) what people think of me anymore –
I go with what I want, judgement or no judgement. Gone are the days of moulding my life around other’s judgements and expectations.
Hell, I nearly got stuck in a passionless career for the very same reason.
But before I could let go of other’s judgements, I first had to recognise my own internal judgements of myself and others. That voice in my head that made me feel insecure around others, and the same voice that gave me an ego – a licence to act superior and “cooler” than other non-hipsters.
I know very well now that when I meet a hipster, or other superior/ aloof/ snobbish/ arrogant type, that really, under that facade is a person that is really insecure.
Because I used to be.
And when you can start to see people through a new lense of curiosity, rather than our default filter of indignance and judgement, you can start to see that we’re all the same really.
We just have different masks on.
It’s the reason I constantly get messages saying “thank you so much for what you wrote – it’s like you’re reading my mind”.
I’m working on writing a mission statement for Project Self (my step Dad/ business mentor told me to!). So far I’ve got:
“To inspire radical honesty and bloody good lives via self awareness and mind taming techniques.”
I’m not even sure that’s how a mission statement should look.
I just want us all to feel we’re safe to take our masks off and reveal our Justin Bieber loving selves without fear of judgement.
Because an honest life is a bloody good life.