Why I am the way I am.

I was around a lot of death as a child. For a couple of years, it seemed as if every time the phone rang, it was someone bearing bad news of yet another passing. It was a lot for my little baby brain to really process, and I can’t begin to understand how it affected my parents and older family members who fully understood what was happening and not only had to handle the pain of loss, but also my cry and curiosity. I went to so many funerals, my sister and I knew which Funeral homes had the better mints and where they kept sugar cubes and other treats.

But as I got older, I discovered that death wasn’t just a moment of sorrow, but also a time for rejoicing. As morbid as it sounds, death isn’t the end.

Now, I’m obviously not saying that you shouldn’t, can’t or are wrong for missing a loved one that has passed. I still mourn and greatly miss all of those that I have lost and regularly wish I could have met all the people that my parents loved that are now gone.

But death is far from the end. Knowing that we will see our loved ones in Heaven one day is such a glorious, wonderful thing. Someday, we will hopefully be with God the Father, Jesus Christ, Mama Mary, and all the Angels and Saints forever.

Now, what does any of this have to do with wearing too much eyeliner and only wearing black have to do with eternal life?

I started wearing all black when I was about 12 when I was given my older sister’s hand-me-downs. She had just gone through what My Mother called her “Johnny Cash” faze, where everything she wore was black.

I still remember the very first time I wore all black. It was a pair of black leggings, a black Woodsy the Owl tee shirt, and some Walmart brand black Canvas shoes. I felt like the coolest kid in my Dance class that day and I’ve stuck with it since, adding spookier accessories, darker makeup, and a random knowledge of bats and bugs as I went.

The best part of starting when I did was that my sister was just finishing her splash of teen angst, so our family and friends didn’t really question it when I started. It was a slow-moving process, but before I knew it, I was killing my ear drums with The Cure, New Order, Depeche Mode, and Siouxie and the Banshees at full volume and decorating with plastic skeletons. (I was pretty into Memento Mori from the start!)

As I got older, my reasoning for dressing in all black or mostly all black everyday became three-fold. It wasn’t just because it’s what I had anymore, (especially after my sister fully outgrew her all-black era) and it wasn’t just because of my love of Post punk/ New wave music anymore. I was mourning those who had gone before me.

whether it was someone I’d known and loved, or someone nobody currently living had ever even heard of, all life has meaning and value. Every soul should have someone praying for them and mourning their loss in the world. So, I’ve done my best to become that person. Every day I dress in black to mourn the loss of a child of God who has gone to eternal life, for the souls in Purgatory that are awaiting the day they can enter Heaven, and for anyone currently dying so that they may have a painless death in the arms of Jesus and Mary.

While this isn’t the only reason I’ve decided to stay in a music and fashion scene that is often deemed satanic (even though that’s a very tiny niche within, and a large majority of it has a lot of Catholic imagery and references. As long as you screen your music, you’re fine!) It’s a big part of why I am the way I am. 🙂

God Bless you and your loved ones.