Birthing Anima, Where Could She Go?

Anima: female soul existing in the intimate part of every man.

I had envisaged her for a while. Glimpses of a white face with big eyes and lips. It was not clear where she came from, what decade or planet. But, she was there - in my mind. Proud and beautiful. The night I birthed her was a night like many, I was overwhelmed and unsure why I was feeling so overwhelmed. Before, I would wallow in my silent cries until they would subside for the night. Though, now I do not stifle my pain. Finally, I have learnt to ask for help. My brother was in the next room so I sent him a message. Are you busy? In between my deep breaths, I heard a door handle turn. He saw me and gently asked what was wrong. I told him that I did not know. But, that I might know why I am this way. I told him everything and he listened.

The best thing about being strong enough to ask for help is that you open your heart to alternate perspectives. My mind calculates every inch of my story as it is being written. It is exhausting and, yes, overwhelming. But my brother, he spoke to me with logic. With simplicity and reason. How are you going to spend your evening? This was his question to me as I regulated my breathing. He told me to keep busy, find something to do to give me a break from my mind for a while. I told him I would finish reading my book as I had one more essay left. That was a start. Once I had done that, I sat in front of the mirror, staring at my puffy eyes and blotched skin. Almost with instinct, I put on my favourite album and smeared white paint onto my cheeks with my trembling fingers. Slowly at first, then spreading the paint around the crevices of my face. She was in me this whole time, it was only then that I brought her to life. Once the red lipstick and blonde wig and diamond earrings were on, my brother walked in to check on me. What am I looking at? He said. I smiled and responded, You told me to keep busy, didn't you?

Makeup has always been a passion of mine. It has been a part of my life since I was gifted my first glitter lipgloss made of jelly. I remember keeping my small makeup bag at the bottom of my plastic baby's stroller. I remember the day it fell out of that stroller and I watched an honest woman wave it in the air asking for the owner. My shyness lost me some good makeup that day. As social media and technology progressed, it seemed only appropriate that I would share my passion with others. Nobody encouraged me to do so, it just seemed logical. I love makeup, love cameras and filming and taking photographs. I enjoy planning and producing and editing. It was all a bit of fun, and it was fun. Until the cruel voices made their way to my heart.

It seemed as though everybody had an issue with my love for makeup. It did not make sense to me, so I did not let it bother me. The girls at primary school forced me to admit I was wearing mascara when I was not, just because I wore it for picture day once. Five years later, the same girls in different forms shouted from across the classroom, Why do you have a full face of makeup on for picture day? Causing everybody to turn their attention to my winged eyeliner and false eyelashes. To a popular girl's Halloween party, which I was surprised I received an invitation to, I dressed up as Harley Quinn. I wore red trousers and painted a black mask on my face. While getting ready, I filmed a tutorial that I would later edit to appear as if I was drawn inside of a comic book. I thought I looked great! But my peers laughed and took pictures of me all night. This did not stop me from curating original makeup looks, filming the process, editing and uploading these videos for anyone to watch - to learn from, to enjoy. For years, I created these videos; it was only when I left school to begin the next step of my education that I stopped. Deleting every trace of my passion, I did not want to repeat the constant mocking I endured.

Entering college, my confidence was non-existent. My self-esteem plummeted daily. Each time I looked into the mirror, the words my peers would scream at me in the corridor, write on the bathroom cubicle doors, it was all I could hear. This lack of self-respected resulted in my allowance of poor behaviour - of mistreatment, of assault. Though, somewhere along the way, I picked up the brush. I turned the camera back on and threw myself into creating interesting videos. Remembering why I did it in the first place, for fun. It was lockdown, their voices could not reach me from inside of my isolation. They tried their best though, anonymous phone calls in the middle of the night pretending to be fans. It never made sense to me why people were so affected by my fun little makeup videos.

After some time, the right people made their voices heard. The ones who admired my talent and enthusiasm and effort to create these videos. Over fifty thousand people wanted to see what I would do next. Despite not knowing any of the faces behind the compliments and words of encouragement, it felt like the entire school was on my side. It was exciting. Companies approached me asking for their products to be featured in my videos - contact lenses, jewellery, haircare, skincare and, of course, makeup. Superdrug invited me to appear on a live show where I was picked up from my house in an Addison Lee. Hundreds of thousands of views on just one short video. It felt surreal, it felt like I was being appreciated.

On my journey, I lost track a bit. Life was colouring dark and I suddenly felt pressure to show up. To ensure my passion shone bright and entertained others. The numbers were increasing while the colour in my skin was fading. The life inside of my youthful eyes in that first makeup tutorial I ever uploaded, gone. I felt as though I was dissapointing strangers. Trying to keep up with trends so that my metrics kept growing, while ensuring I was original enough to stand out from the millions of others. So, I took a step back. Then, I walked away. My goodbye message received comments of support, as well as those insisting that I stay because they look forward to watching my videos. It was difficult to walk away. It felt as though I was giving up on who I was - and who I could have been.

Life changed, and I changed with it. On a recent morning walk, I listened to author Brianna Weist tell me, Do you know why you don't have the things you once thought you wanted? Do you know why you're not the person you once thought you'd be? Because you don't want those things anymore. Of course, it made sense. When I was a child, I had it all figured out. I would get good grades to take me to Bournemouth University where I would study makeup artistry and live by the sea. Then, I would work as a celebrity makeup artist or in theatre - depending on what captured my interest most during my studies. It was simple, a clear path ahead of me. All I had to do was take a step, then another, and keep on going. There was no final destination, just an exciting journey. Though, I did sit in front of the television screen as a child writing songs that I imagined I would sing during an X-Factor audition. And, I did watch The Graham Norton Show wondering what I would wear to sit on the large orange couch and discuss my upcoming movie - as the actress, or the director, or both. At one point, I even imagined myself as a model. All of this changed once the spark was stripped from my eyes. No longer did I see myself as someone capable of achieving such things. But, makeup, that I could do.

Shading my temples and cheekbones in red, brushing beige paint through my eyebrows and twirling a black eyeliner in a single spot beside my overdrawn lips. Anima was born and all of the people I wanted to be, all of the dreams I dreamed, they were alive right in front of my eyes. Dancing to Nina Simone with a small silver camera in my hand, I had never felt more myself. This year, I am just so excited to see where Anima could go. My city, another city. Is she a poet like me, too? Does she sing? I wonder what her voice sounds like, the words she sings and speaks. Perhaps she could fulfil her modelling fantasies and stand in front of somebody else's camera. She allows me to be all of the people I wanted to be - an actress, a singer, model, director, screenwriter, songwriter and a makeup artist. The passion I once had has now risen like a Phoenix, and her name is Anima.