CARLY KNASZAK
Reverb Co-Editor
I was told recently that I do not fit any stereotype. If I was 16 years old you would’ve heard me say, “What are you talking about? I’m a rocker, emo and a punk.” Now, being 22 years old, you can see me wearing brightly colored clothes with pink lipstick and then the next I am in my studded jacket and wearing my favorite Alice Cooper shirt.
As cliche as it sounds, I never really fit into any group of people. In elementary school, I was the quiet and awkwardly tall girl who listened to her country music like Garth Brooks, Toby Keith and Big & Rich.
In middle school I was on every sports team and people saw me hanging with the “weird” people. I was bullied because I started wearing heavy eyeliner at a young age and I was harassed by my own teammates. But my one friend in middle school showed me the world of rock ‘n’ roll, and I was hooked.
In high school I joined the freaks, emos and goths. I was ecstatic because I felt like I belonged somewhere. I was the one on the sidelines with my friends in our band shirts and converse and giving the middle finger to the people who picked on us.
After high school things started changing for me. I still felt like I didn’t belong anywhere. I loved my rock music and my black clothes, but I loved all the clothes in PacSun and Hollister. I loved the beach clothes because I always loved the ocean. My family would go to vacation to Florida every year and it was when I was at my happiest. I secretly had an obsession with summer and palm trees.
I became fascinated with the idea of moving to California and making a name for myself because I was obsessed with Universal Studios — its movies and the behind the scenes of movies. At one point in high school I wanted to get into sound design because my film class taught us how special effect sounds were made in movies.
College came around and my dorm room was full of The Beatles, my favorite rock bands, pictures of tropical places and peace signs. Throughout my years of college I had my many different styles of looking like I woke up from a beach party, jumped out of a time machine from the ’50s, got out of a mosh pit or I finished running a mile.
I started questioning where I belonged. I had midnight thoughts of “Who am I really? Why am I always changing my look? Am I ever going to find something that truly makes me happy?” People started not being phased at my many different looks and I would be complimented on my looks all the time.
I took a step back and realized why should I settle for one look or why are we told that we need to pick one fashion and stick with it? I stopped caring and started dressing how I wanted to dress. I wasn’t dressing anymore to figure out where I belonged. I was dressing to make myself feel beautiful and show people that this is who I am.
I am a senior now, and I have four tattoos now. I have a Beatles one on my back, a Jack Sparrow one on my thigh, an Alice Cooper one on my hip and a Kenny Chesney one on my ribs. The tattoos describe who I am. I am a hippie. I am a pirate. I am a rocker. I am a child of the sea.
I am happy.