Dear Doll,

You’re probably wondering a few things. One, why the hell am I back on YouTube after I made a whole big fuss about needing a “break”? Yeah, I plan to bunny quote that as soon as I read this out loud to you. Back to our list. Second, what am I doing writing this all down?

Here’s a little fun fact for you . . . if you scroll back to the early days of this channel, like ten years ago, you may have noticed something. I stuttered. A lot. Don’t worry, I’ll just wait here in case you’re hoping to go stalk me down.

Oh, you’re back? Great.

Either you couldn’t make it through a single video (I don’t blame you), or you’re ready for me to keep going with this super odd update. (I expect it to trend, don’t let me down).

Anyway, there was a definite stutter. In fact, I stuttered quite frequently growing up. I suppose it came as a result of certain things in my upbringing. We won’t get into that here. In any case, it wasn’t until I started creating and uploading videos that the stutter quieted and I could enjoy myself.

You did that, doll.

Playing with makeup, however silly it might seem, did that.

For so many years, this channel was my happy place. It gave me confidence when I had none. It straightened my posture when I slouched and hid in the shadows. It reminded me that we can all be beautiful, no matter the shape of our noses, the height of our cheekbones, the strength of our jawlines.

And if you don’t like it, you can always contour the hell out of it and be the YOU that you want to be.

(It should be noted that my writing is atrocious, and there are underlines all over this paper. Sorry for any random stumbling over of sentences.)

Sometime in the last few years, I lost love sight of all that. I wanted something new, to be something more than just the chick applying makeup. So, naturally, I created a new online identity as if that would solve all my problems! (bahaha, don’t do this. Trust me). To this date, Naked You, my photography business, has half as many followers as ThatMakeupGirl, even if a woman in Boston had the credit for a little while. Spoiler alert! It was me all along.

It’s been great traipsing (I love this word) around Lousiana Lousianna Louisiana and having new types of adventures.

Only . . . do you remember that challenge I started without meaning to? The #badboyirredemption one, which is still trending and I honestly don’t understand why? Well, I fell for the bad boy, just like I warned you all not to. Interesting tidbit: he’s not all that much of a bad boy. He’s actually quite noble.

Too noble.

I love him anyway.

I let him charm his way into my life, even though I knew I shouldn’t let down my guard. I let him become my happy place, my rock, my best friend. If I needed a laugh, I called him. If I wanted to go on an adventure, he was the first person I looked to. If I wanted to feel special, wanted, loved, all I had to do was sit in the same room as him and he showed me all of that.

It wasn’t a lie.

None of it was.

And when he broke my heart, I made a startling discovery. I didn’t want my friends, I didn’t particularly want my family either. I love them and all, but what I truly needed was you, doll.

Sometimes, when we as beauty influencers sit in front of our cameras and film, we think of the viewer. What do you want to see? What can I say to hold your interest? Sometimes, however, YouTube is my personal diary, the timeline of my growth as a woman finding her way, the space in which I retreat when nothing else provides comfort or solace.

I’m reading this to you today because I have a few things to say (obviously), and I hope that one day, I’ll look back on this video and think, “Oh yeah, that was the day I grew into the next best version of myself.”

We’re numbering this because I feel like it.

1. I didn’t fall for the bad boy. Maybe if I had, I wouldn’t be here now. (There is a pile of crumpled up tissues scattered over my desk, and I’m drinking wine at eleven a.m. Don’t worry, this is good progress). No, I fell for the man who tempted me to do wild things, who made me smile and who taught me to never fear the fall, no matter how gross or disgusting the landing. I fell for the man who met me out at a club because I asked him to, and even when I threw up all over him, he made me laugh and pushed me to do more for myself. Which leads me to . . .
2. Sometimes you can’t make other people do what you want. You can’t own their shit, you can only own your own. You can choose to be happy or you can decide you want to be miserable. From this day forward, I’m going with the former. Happy is not only better for the skin, it’s also better for my heart and soul. Win-win.
3. I’ve missed my makeup. They’ve sat lonely and quiet for the last few weeks, and there is a decent chance I spent my morning in my three-day old pajamas, swirling foundation all over my skin and pretending I looked fabulous. (Confession: I did)

Thank you for being you, doll. Thank you for listening to me read this letter out loud, and for forgiving me because my stutter is back in full force after nearly ten years of absence. It’s the reason I wrote it all down, you see. I have to accept all that I am, and I encourage you to do so, too.

Never believe you’re not worthy of something or someone.

You are.

You’re better.

Change only because you want to, and not because someone holds that expectation of you.

Laugh loudly every day.

And take the risk on love. The heartbreak may come, but you may still learn something along the way.

I’m signing off as someone else today. Not as ThatMakeupGirl, but as Lizzie, plain old Lizzie from New Orleans, Louisiana, who spent her later teenage years on the Wank, otherwise known as the Best Bank there ever was.

See you soon, doll. I’ve got more tutorials to tackle, and I swear to God I tried this facial primer the other day and it was like an orgasm and a unicorn came together to birth something magical. Stay tuned.

Love,

Lizzie