I love dressing myself. Sounds funny for a typical adult, but my clothes are my power suit, my impression I give to the world. Often they are my confidence and when my clothes are in disarray so am I. But my clothes aren’t me, on good days they can be a reflection of how I feel but on most days they can become a costume that I hide behind, afraid to show the real me to the world and even to the people who love me
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