Apparently healing requires snacks. And fries. Definitely fries.
There are two versions of me.
The woman who says:
“This is my fresh start. I’m making better choices.”
And the woman approximately 45 minutes later:
“Can I get extra fries with that?” 😂
Welcome to both of them.
Because somewhere between rebuilding my life, rediscovering myself and trying to figure out what the fuck comes next…
I got hungry.
Not just for food.
For life.
For fun.
For creativity.
For ridiculous outfits.
For experiences.
For taking up space again.
For doing things simply because they make me fucking happy.
And apparently that required an entire collection involving burgers, fries, neon signs and me behaving badly in a pink fur coat.
Naturally.
Welcome to my MUKBANG COLLECTION. 🍔🍟💀
I SPENT ENOUGH TIME TRYING TO MAKE MYSELF SMALL.
And I don't only mean physically.
Although that story is complicated too.
I mean smaller in every possible way.
Less emotional.
Less loud.
Less demanding.
Less difficult.
Less opinionated.
Less too much.
Be easier.
Be grateful.
Be understanding.
Don’t need too much.
Don’t want too much.
Don’t eat too much.
Don’t SAY too much.
Basically:
Exist. But could you please do it slightly less?
Yeah.
I think I’m done with that.
BECAUSE I AM FUCKING HUNGRY.
Hungry for a life that feels like mine.
And that's different from simply starting over.
Starting over sounds so clean, doesn’t it?
✨ NEW CHAPTER ✨
✨ NEW ME ✨
✨ FRESH START ✨
Meanwhile actual starting over is more like:
Where the fuck am I?
Who am I now?
Why am I crying?
And do we have snacks?
😂
There are days when I feel unstoppable.
There are days when I feel like I’ve figured everything out.
And then there are days when my greatest achievement is not texting someone I absolutely should not text.
Growth. 💀
Nobody puts that on the inspirational Pinterest quote.
THIS COLLECTION STARTED WITH FOOD. BUT IT ISN’T REALLY ABOUT FOOD.
That happens a lot with my art.
I start with something visually ridiculous…
and somewhere along the way I realize what I’m actually trying to say.
This time I kept creating images around indulgence.
Burgers.
Fries.
Messy tables.
Sauces everywhere.
Neon.
Pink fur.
Big hair.
Big portions.
Big fucking energy.
Everything the opposite of controlled, polished and restrained.
And then it clicked.
APPETITE.
That was the story.
Because appetite isn't only about what we eat.
It’s desire.
Curiosity.
Pleasure.
Ambition.
Sexiness.
Creativity.
Wanting.
Living.
And women have been given a truly impressive number of instructions about how much of all of those things we're allowed to have.
So I thought…
Fuck it.
Make mine large.
🍔
WELCOME TO MY VERY SERIOUS PHILOSOPHICAL STUDY OF FRENCH FRIES.
The designs started getting increasingly unhinged.
SORRY FOR WHAT I SAID HUNGRY.
Because frankly, some apologies require context.
HOT GIRLS NEED CARBS.
Science.*
*Research conducted personally. Sample size: me.
FRIES OVER GUYS.
Not legally binding.
But historically there may be supporting evidence. 💀
EXTRA SPICY. ZERO PATIENCE.
Accurate.
And:
FEED ME & MIND YOUR BUSINESS.
Which may actually be the healthiest boundary I have established in years.
😂
BUT THERE'S SOMETHING ELSE UNDERNEATH THE JOKE.
For years, my body has been a project.
Something to change.
Something to judge.
Something to photograph from the correct angle.
Something that was apparently always supposed to become something else.
I’ve lived in very different versions of this body.
And changing your body doesn't magically resolve everything happening inside it.
You can change dramatically and still have to learn how to live inside yourself.
How to trust yourself.
How to enjoy yourself.
How to stop treating your existence like a permanent before picture.
That one has taken me a while.
And I'm still learning.
I DON'T WANT TO SPEND THE REST OF MY LIFE WAITING TO DESERVE IT.
The outfit.
The photograph.
The trip.
The food.
The confidence.
The love.
The fucking life.
Because there is always another imaginary checkpoint.
When I look better.
When I'm more successful.
When I'm completely healed.
When everything settles down.
When I finally have my shit together.
Then.
Then I'll live.
Except I'm 48.
And one thing I'm beginning to understand very clearly is:
THIS IS THE FUCKING LIFE.
Not the future version.
Not the edited version.
Not the version where everything finally makes sense.
This messy Tuesday.
This body.
This appetite.
This ridiculous burger.
This woman.
Right fucking now.
MAYBE THAT'S ANOTHER KIND OF LEVEL UP. 📸
Level Up Your Selfie started with photographs.
But I keep discovering that the selfie is really just the evidence.
Evidence that I showed up.
Evidence that I existed in this version too.
Evidence that I didn't wait until my life was perfect before allowing myself to be visible.
And lately I'm less interested in taking pictures of the woman I'm trying to become.
I want photographs of the woman who is actually fucking living.
Laughing with her mouth open.
Eating the fries.
Wearing the ridiculous coat.
Making the mess.
Taking up the frame.
Because maybe empowerment isn't always standing on a mountain at sunrise looking inspirational.
Sometimes it's sitting in a diner with ketchup on your fingers thinking:
Holy shit. I actually want things again.
And I think that's beautiful.
SO YES. I'M STARTING FRESH.
But I'm starting fresh hungry.
Hungry for creativity.
Hungry for experiences.
Hungry for connection.
Hungry for laughter.
Hungry for whatever strange version of myself I haven't met yet.
And yes.
Occasionally just hungry for a fucking cheeseburger.
Both can be profound. 😂🍔
I don't want smaller anymore.
Not smaller dreams.
Not smaller stories.
Not smaller creativity.
Not smaller versions of myself designed to make everybody else comfortable.
I want the whole ridiculous meal.
And dessert.
So here's to the women starting again.
At 28.
Whatever.
You haven't missed dinner.
You haven't missed your moment.
And you certainly don't need to have everything figured out before you're allowed to enjoy yourself.
Wear the outfit.
Order the fries.
Make the art.
Take the picture.
Want more.
Have an appetite for your own fucking life.
Because maybe starting fresh doesn't mean becoming someone new.
Maybe it means finally giving the woman who's already here permission to be hungry.
🍔🍟💋📸✨
Welcome to the Mukbang Collection.
STARTING FRESH & HUNGRY.
And please…
feed me & mind your business.
— Angelina Mi Lajki 💋
Too much is never enough.
