People are often surprised when they discover that I identify as a goth—not necessarily because I don’t wear black (which I do, all the time), but because I don’t always conform to the stereotypical image of what a goth “should” look like. This perception is often rooted in the dramatic makeup, spiked hair, and extravagant clothing many associate with the subculture.

This post aims to explore what being a goth has meant to me over the years, how it has shaped my identity, and why I’ve ultimately decided to disregard the expectations others have of how I should present myself. For me, goth has never been merely a costume or a phase; rather, it’s a deep-seated pull that resonates within me, a mood that colors my experiences, and a mindset that influences how I navigate the world.

It’s also been a form of rebellion—a way to challenge societal norms and express my individuality in a culture that often prizes conformity. Embracing goth aesthetics and philosophies has allowed me to explore the darker aspects of life, art, and emotion, giving me a unique lens through which to view my existence. Now, I really cherish this part of myself in its entirety, caring less about fitting into a predetermined box and more about celebrating the complexity of who I am.

The Early Days: Pop Stars, Posters, and Nirvana on Repeat

Growing up, I spent years pretending to like the mainstream. Or rather, I didn’t even realize I was pretending. I thought that was just what you did. My bedroom walls were covered in posters of pop stars because that’s what everyone else was doing. I tried to like what I thought I was supposed to — the music, the fashion, the way girls were “meant” to look. Platform trainers, Naff Naff, Kappa and/or metallic puffer jackets, a single string of hair on either side of your face, Sun-In (if you know, you know), blue mascara, tie-dye, Heather Shimmer lipstick….it was the 90’s! Cut me some slack!

But behind that perfectly normal-looking bedroom door, I was listening to Nirvana. Soundgarden, Faith No More, and Black Sabbath, among others. There was something in those gritty guitars and emotionally raw lyrics that felt like home long before I knew what goth or alternative culture was. My parents had always had tastes in music that were outside the norm; my mom had loads of vinyl records that I used to blast from the sound system when I got home from school. The pop star posters didn’t last long. I quietly replaced them with darker imagery, and before I knew it, I was writing vampire stories on my pale blue typewriter, long before I ever wore anything with spikes or eyeliner.

Tomboy Years, Missed Labels, and Finding My Feet

Throughout school, I lived in baggy jeans and oversized hoodies. I was a tomboy through and through. I was bullied relentlessly at school for a variety of things, but the main “target” was that the kids who taunted me thought I wasn’t developing at the same rate as the other girls. My mom’s best friend had a son who was 2 years older than me, and I used to get some of his hand-me-downs. In particular, I would be given his school jumpers, which were very big on me. As a result, no one could see my body, and I was the target of ridicule for having no breasts. I was even given a nickname because of it, which followed me to college. Kids are so cruel.

I didn’t feel drawn to the feminine in any way — not because I was pushing it away, but because it just didn’t fit. I remember times when, if there was a social event, my parents would try to make me look pretty; out came the dreaded dress! I resisted for as long as I could, but eventually, that damn dress had to be worn. And it wasn’t until much later that I realized I could be feminine and still be me. These days, I love exploring that side of myself — corsets, leather, PVC, chunky boots, chains — but it took time.

Sometimes, I still feel like I’m playing catch-up. That “too late to start” feeling doesn’t go away easily, but the truth is, goth isn’t one fixed identity. You don’t age out of it or grow out of it. You grow into the version that feels right for you. I’m still a tomboy and always will be. I loved building treehouses in the woods, making fires, bombing around on my rollerskates, and mountain biking. I can’t do many of those things now, but I still have the tomboy in me and always will.

Losing (and Reclaiming) My Style in Love

When I met my now-husband, I did what so many of us do — I started to morph into what I thought he wanted. I leaned into his interests: dance music, branded clothes, and a style that felt safe and “normal”, reminiscent of my school days. I assumed that’s what he’d prefer, not because he asked me to.

After a year or two, I realized I didn’t feel comfortable in my own skin. So I went back to my roots. I re-embraced my love of gothic clothing — black, bold, unapologetic. I returned to the music that made me feel something more profound. And surprise: he didn’t care. In fact, he embraced it. I even converted him a little. (Although he still gives me that look when I blast Lady Gaga.)

What Gothic Really Means to Me

I’ve always been drawn to the darker side of life — not in a morbid way, but in a deeply aesthetic, emotional, and creative sense. I love Gothic architecture. I love moody, atmospheric stories like Frankenstein, Jekyll and Hyde, and anything by Edgar Allan Poe. I love movies that leave you feeling haunted. I love the beauty in melancholy, the romance of decay, the tension between shadow and light.

I’m not a “traditional” goth, however. I don’t wear Victorian mourning clothes, paint my face ghostly white, and rarely see without some kind of grin. I’m more of a modern goth — someone who blends dark fantasy art, alternative fashion, and humour into something uniquely my own. You’ll just as likely find me bingeing fainting goat videos or baking cakes as you will brooding under a full moon.

The Pressure to Be “Goth Enough”

Gatekeeping occurs in every subculture, and the gothic community is certainly no exception. At times, I find myself grappling with feelings of inadequacy, questioning whether I’m “goth enough” to truly belong. It could be the fact that I’m laughing a little too loudly, my makeup isn’t as sharply defined as others’, or perhaps I’ve traded my vintage Victorian blouse for a dark-hued hoodie that embraces a more modern aesthetic. However, through experience, I’ve come to realize that these surface details don’t define my identity.

I choose to wear what resonates with me—whether it’s a gothic scoop-neck t-shirt adorned with a delightfully eerie design, a robust pair of leather boots that seem suited for wandering through enigmatic cemeteries, or a cozy gothic crewneck sweatshirt that strikes the perfect balance between comfort and dark style. Ultimately, my journey in the goth subculture isn’t about performing for anyone else’s approval or adhering to arbitrary standards; it’s about embracing and living my truth in all its wonderfully eclectic forms.

Building Something for the Rest of Us

When I started building my business, I knew I wanted it to reflect the whole world I’ve built around myself. Gothic home decor, gothic greeting cards, gothic apparel — all made with people like us in mind. Not just the clichés but the real-life weirdos. The soft-hearted punks. The witchy romantics. The ones who love moody wall art in the living room, alternative hoodies that actually feel comfortable, or witchy notebooks for journaling under fairy lights.

I spend weeks researching every product — from gothic wall art print canvas ideas to gothic-style blankets that make winter a bit more magical. I look at what people are searching for, what they can’t find in the mainstream, what’s been missing from their lives. And then I try to create it. Because I know how frustrating it is to walk into a shop and see nothing that feels remotely “you.” We deserve beautiful products that reflect our tastes. We deserve gothic birthday cards that aren’t just black roses and clichés. We deserve gothic home decor wall art canvases that aren’t mass-produced and soulless.

So, What Does Being a Goth Mean?

To me, being goth signifies freedom — the kind that liberates you from societal norms and allows you to embrace your true self without hesitation. It means never having to apologize for what you genuinely love, whether that’s a fascination with the macabre or a passion for the sublime. It’s about discovering joy in the darker, stranger corners of life, where beauty often hides in unexpected places. One moment, I might be laughing uncontrollably at entertaining goat videos, and the next, I’m immersed in the haunting verses of “The Raven,” enjoying the mix of whimsy and melancholy.

Being goth isn’t synonymous with misery or morbidity; rather, it’s about experiencing emotions deeply and authentically. It means acknowledging that there is elegance within the shadows and finding inspiration in the unconventional. I choose clothing, decor, art, and lifestyle choices that resonate with a deeper part of my identity, even if they fail to fit the mainstream narrative. Each piece reflects my individuality and invites others to see the world through my lens.

And if that means blasting industrial metal like Nine Inch Nails or Marilyn Manson while sipping coffee from a beautifully crafted gothic ceramic mug — adorned with intricate skulls or dark florals — in my quaint cottagecore kitchen decorated with ornate black candle holders and velvet wall hangings, then so be it. It’s about curating a life where every detail speaks to my essence, celebrating the unique tapestry of my existence.