F**k Hygge!...Just Kidding!

Hi all, 

When I first thought about writing this blog my plan was to tell you all about hygge living. Like any other woman embarking on her 30's I know a thing or two about owning an abundance of blankets, different flavoured tea and multiple cacti. The more I thought about my plan the more absurd it seemed to become. I love cosy evenings in as much as the next person, but I will be honest, it's not my whole life. It's not that I do not want it to be my life either, if that’s what you are thinking…it's simply that no matter what I try I always seem to fail. No matter how many times a week I vacuum my apartment, I always find small crumbs in the corners of my living room. How did these crumbs get there? I do not eat in the corners of my living room! Why do I continuously find black bobby pins woven into my carpet when my hair is blonde! and why do I find it so impossible to make a cup of breakfast tea without leaving sugar all over my counter tops?

It seems easy through Instagram, to live an elegant, hygge lifestyle. All you need is a home with white bare walls, a MacBook Pro and a spider plant. We just don't include the obscene amount of laundry just off camera that has been waiting for over a week to be washed or the wet patch on the duvet where your baby threw up earlier that day. In a world where we all live our lives through the lens of a camera and dissect every little detail we share with the world, even if it is not always true; It seems completely meaningless for me to add to the archives of deception and continue the torture that is the charade of perfection we attempt to put ourselves through and promote as realistic. 

I will always have a little bit too much body fat (I like to think in a cute way that Russell Brand would find attractive) and my hair will always be thicker and duller than every other woman in the salon. The psoriasis on my big toes does not respond to medication and no matter how careful I am I will always have a tendency to fall down the stairs. You can see what I'm trying to tell you, I'm average. Average. There is literally nothing that makes me special or unique or stand out in a crowd of people. I am 29, I'm not married and I do not have children. I cannot even commit to having a dog, that's why I got a hamster. She makes a noise when I try to sleep.

Believe me I understand that to you I must sound completely defeated. A shadow of my potential former self, ready to hang up my fake Ugg boots and hibernate my way through the winter, but that's not the case. The reason I felt compelled to write this blog was because I recently discovered a secret; come close ... It's okay! It's OK that you only put on lipstick for photos and then take it straight back off after. It's okay that you wear the pyjamas bottoms more often than any other type of clothing (side note: you do have to wash them). It's okay that just the smell of green tea makes you feel nauseous and it's OK that you only buy organic vegetables when guests are coming around, just to show them your organic vegetables.

The beautiful thing about the age we live in is that we have so much freedom and permission. We can go out and become naturopaths or yoga instructors, we can run successful Instagram accounts by photographing nothing but leaves and if we are really brave we can be average. I spent so much of my life trying to become extraordinary when the whole time the truth was I was just extra ordinary. So from one girl who can’t wait for her nail polish to dry to another ... Let's celebrate us! The most seemingly miserable yet truly happy people in the world. We just do not know it yet!

Freja