When I was fourteen or thereabouts, I was a closeted emo fetus. (Do keep in mind that if you had asked me if I was emo then, I would have said no. I would have denied being emo even under the threat of torture.) -This was cringey for a multitude of reasons, the first being that I was absolutely obsessed with Bill Kaulitz from Tokio Hotel. Like, I was SERIOUSLY obsessed. I was completely enamored with his ~edgy~ (although I didn’t use that word then) androgynous look, I watched fanmade videos of him offstage, I squealed and giggled when I thought of him, and I even wanted to LEARN GERMAN so I could listen to TH’s songs in their original language.
Yeah, I know, fourteen-year-old me was a dumbass. And almost-eighteen-year-old me actually still is, just in a more lowkey way.
But anyway, I slowly lost interest in them (which may or may not have been largely because Bill had lost that beautiful dark androgynous goth hair and aesthetic and TH’s music had morphed into electronic rock which I didn’t really care too much for)(because when you’re a closeted emo chick like I was, you’d rather have your ears grated on by harsh guitars than harsh synthesizers) and I deleted all of their songs off my phone. Which was probably a relief to my parents, who I probably bothered by constantly singing off-key to TH songs, and who are the reason I never became full-on emo: the Mother would never have allowed me to dress the part.
The second cringey thing about it all was that I wanted my hair to be like this *gestures wildly* and by this I mean dangerously slanted and obscuring 3/4’s of my face. Or spiky and badass like Hayley Williams (who is still a hair goddess, fight me if you don’t agree). I wanted to put on hella smudged eyeliner with my (then EVEN WORSE makeup skills)(I never sharpened my eyeliner pencil and it gave me these hecking ugly thick flaking lines) and I wanted to wear all black (which, let’s be real, I still want to do) and I wanted to wear chains and spikes, and I even, I eVE N wanted to get a piercing of some kind (I specifically really wanted to get one (yes, just ONE) ear pierced and constantly wear a single black earring, just like 2010~ era Dan Howell did).
(I probably still have one existing monochrome “””””selfie”””” of myself with stupid emo slanted hair and eyeliner panda rings around my eyes.)
Which brings me to the third cringe-inducing thing: I wanted SO badly to be a part of that emo ~*aesthetic*~ because apparently, fourteen-year-old me wasn’t quite aware that the whole “emo” scene had long since been dead and decomposing in America and the rest of the world. I was oblivious, so I took too many side-top-view selfies with my hair cutting across my eyes and a grainy monochrome filter turning my face all flat and pixelated, and thought I was being reaaalllly quote cooollll and difffffferent end quote.
And of course, the worst part of this emo phase was that I WAS REALLY ATTRACTED TO EMO BOYS. That sounds like a joke and I suppose it is, but anyway, I thought boys with slanty hair and eyeliner were suuuuper hot. Like, smoking hot. I am not exaggerating when I say that I really hoped I would *magically* meet a really pretty emo boy with stupid side-swept hair and eyeliner and skinny jeans and an appreciation for ~real~ music: that is, emo music. (One other embarrassing aspect of my emo-ness was the part where I hated One Direction and other *poppy* boy bands for absolutely no other reason than the fact that I hated things for being poppy.) Like, if I had known an emo dude at that point of my life, there’s a 93% chance that I would’ve dated him if I had the opportunity. Maybe I would even date an emo boy with horribly long hair now, but that’s something I just do not want to dwell on, because even the idea makes me want to cringe into the next century.
Honestly, there were so many things that were cringey about me when I was fourteen and fifteen (and sixteen and now seventeen). But the emo part? Where I wanted to be emo? That was probably the most embarrassing thing. Undoubtedly the worst thing was that I thought I was being special and **different** from other girls just because I listened to “”cooler”” bands, which is complete and utter bullshit. Not too long ago I realized that I STILL have this mentality to some extent, which is horrible and makes me angry at myself because there is nothing brag-worthy about being “”special””, because everyone is special and you should get over yourself if that’s the only thing you are proud of. But of course, of course, I developed these ideas before I was exposed to the many facets of feminism, one of which is the fact that it’s not feminism if it’s shaming other girls for doing what they like, which includes listening to One Direction and wearing pink. God, I was so cringey. But remember kids, everyone has a cringey teen and preteen phase, and it’s nothing to be ashamed of, everyone goes through an embarrassing thing like that.
Although I really should go about destroying the remaining digital photo copies of me with emo fetus hair and a deadpan expression. Just, you know, so no one ever finds them. Not that I’m ashamed or anything. But. You know.
And that, my friends, was the story of the time of my life when I was a wannabe emo. I hope you enjoyed reading, or at least had a laugh at my expense. Reading back on this makes me snort and cringe, so I hope you cringed until you laughed. Hopefully, at least, you now realize that even the ~~coolest~~ people ~~~~~like me~~~~~ ***sarcasm*** have their embarrassing phases, which is why you should forgive other people (and yourself) for having them. It’s completely normal and it’ll make you nostalgic looking back on how cringey you were.
Now, time for me to hunt out those horrible emo pics and delete them forever….