»  Tell me about yourself Lydia. Let’s get to know each other over candlelight computer light.

Well, as a child I was an uncontainable terror. I stripped naked in public, insisted walls were large coloring books, and got ousted from preschool for making a boy twice my size cry. I so perfectly embodied a primitive monster that my dad nicknamed me “Wild Thing” after my favorite bedtime story.  And while twenty years of life have refined my behavior, they’ve failed to tame my spirit. I’m still an adventurer, a dreamer, a sporadic middle-of-the-day dance partier. I haven’t given up hope that chocolate is a food group.

In 2011 I landed my job in morning radio, which became an incredible opportunity to turn my inhibition into comedy. I’m blessed to work in an environment that fuels my Peter Pan-ish, never-grow-up philosophy. In some ways though it’s creatively limited. And the girl who once drew a non-commissioned living room mural in crayon wants a bigger canvas.

 »  Why not take up knitting, clog dancing or glass-blowing? Why start a blog?

Simply put, I love to write. There’s nothing more challenging or rewarding. I’ve been a loyal reader of blogs for years, coveting each author’s unique style and perspective. Yet I found myself increasingly frustrated with their inaccessibility. People visiting places I could never afford. Looking like super models on the fly. Whipping up four course meals without a) burning their kitchen down or b) breaking a sweat.

I started The City Wild somewhat selfishly then. To create a safe haven for my own mistakes and imperfections. I wanted to share my haphazard adventures with less focus on presentation (glossy photos) and more emphasis on authenticity, humor and fun.

 »  Do go on… (Said no guy ever)

The rise of social media has opened up beautiful explorations of art and human connection. One of the detriments however, is the idealized version of life it allows us to present. On the internet we are godlike. We control exactly how much of ourselves the world sees. The bad can be hidden, the good can be exaggerated or invented. With a few strategic mouse clicks we become the best looking, most intelligent, most successful version of ourselves. We can Photoshop our entire existence.

Editing and retouching may appear harmless, but I’ve experienced the consequences of fabricated perfection firsthand. I struggled with anorexia for over a decade – the predatory prowess of which is unrivaled by anything on Animal Planet. Digging out those claws is the accomplishment I’m most proud of to date. Now I eat a lot of dessert and hope my displays of imperfection can inspire a little change.

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Thank you for being a part of this haphazard, make-up-as-I-go adventure.  I am infinitely grateful.





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