Hey Kim Kardashian. How’s it going? Haven’t seen much of you lately — less, it seems, than I have in the last decade.
You didn’t deserve that. No one who has been assaulted does. It makes sense that going through this kind of traumatic event would make you reconsider your public profile. And just so you know: We’ll all be here if and when you decide to come back.
I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately: what you represent in the world; what the world has projected on to you. Who you really are, and how complex it must be to have a career that requires you to be on display all the time. I imagine you must spend a lot of mental energy deciding what belongs to only you and what is for everyone else; what’s up for sale, and what isn’t. On some scale, I think those are decisions that a lot of women make, so for what it’s worth you’re far from alone. But it’s not always easy, I know. And yet somehow, pretty much up until now, you’ve managed to make it look that way.
That’s one of the things I actually wanted to talk to you about, on the eve of your 36th. (Also though: Holy crap, how are you 36 already?! I feel like we were just looking at photos of your 30th birthday, and those super old Simple Life scenes you showed up in. Time flies, doesn’t it?)
When I say you make “it” look easy, here’s what I mean by “it”: being a mom of two and a devoted wife. Being a girl boss who does not always get the credit she deserves for staying ahead of the curve, and smiles through it all. Being the most recognizable reality star of a generation, and having zero privacy, all while balancing all the roles you’re playing. Sure, you show the work that goes into being you — that’s actually one of the things that makes you appealing. But somehow, even though the work that goes into being Kim Kardashian is right on the surface, you project a certain seamlessness. A kind of perfection, even.
Because I am also a human, I know that can’t be real. And I just wanted to say: It’s okay to let the cracks show.
We all have off days, right? With our partners, with our family, with ourselves. It’s okay to fall apart when you need to fall apart, and to take the space and time you need to do that. I’m actually really excited for you to have some time out of the limelight. If anyone has earned it, you have. This is going to be a great year. Saint should be walking soon; North is no doubt becoming more interesting as her own person every day; Hillary Clinton sure as hell better be our president soon.
I also think taking a break from self-documentation will be good for you, even if you ultimately come back; it’s been part of who you are every single day for so long. I wonder what you might discover about yourself off-camera and away from the lens. Tech breaks can be really clarifying, at least in my own experience — that kind of hiatus always brings what I actually give a shit about into focus. Here’s hoping that hitting pause helps you move forward.
And so: Happy birthday, Kim. I hope your kids help you blow out your candles and you get to do whatever the hell else you want. I hope you feel safe, and loved, and supported. I hope that you’re feeling stronger, every day. And take all the time you need.
The rest of the world can wait.