LIP: Life is Personal
The day I realised life was personal, I was standing in a crowded train station, holding a CV no one had asked for and a heart full of hope no one could see.
Everyone was rushing suits, heels, earphones, important conversations I wasn’t part of. I was just one woman with a vision in her hand and tears she didn’t let fall. It hit me then nobody is coming to feel your story for you. You must live it, and tell it.
People say “don’t take life personally.” But how could I not? When the rejection emails had my name on them. When the dreams that kept me up at night came from my own chest. When the voices telling me to give up were living rent free in my head.
No, life is personal. That’s the point.
Because when I started treating my story like it mattered, when I stopped editing myself to fit people’s assumptions, I started creating things I was proud of. Not perfect. But mine.
So now, when life feels heavy or unclear, I whisper to myself: “LIP. Life is Personal.”
And I remember that every sketch, every word, every version of me that survived yesterday is allowed to show up today.
That’s the story I carry. Not loud. But mine.
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