Can We Just Not?

So, I'm about to get on my soapbox for a few minutes. If you don't want to read about plus size women issues, then, this might be a blog post for you to skip. 

This week, I had a very petite young lady ask me about my special someone. Very proud, I pulled out my phone and showed her. Her reaction? It almost brought me to my knees.

She literally looked at the pictures I showed her, then looked at me with a shocked look on her face. "Seriously?" she said. I have no idea how she meant it, but my anxiety took it to mean, "A man who looks that incredible could never be interested in a troll like you." 

I know I'm not a troll. But I also have my own issues that I'm dealing with. This man is younger than me. He's definitely in better shape than I am. And, I think he's sexy as hell. What's funny? He'd tell you the exact same thing about me!

In the new journey I'm on, I'm finding more beautiful, fit men who are interested in a woman who is on the plusher side of sizes. And, I'll be honest, I love it. None of these men have said that I'd be beautiful if only... Instead, they don't put any qualifiers in their compliments. It is quite simple from the mouths of very plain spoken men, "You are beautiful."

Before you ask, yes, these men are seeing more than just my face. My boudoir photos? Yeah, these are the ones that are getting the most comments. 

So, can we just not? Not look surprised when you see a very plain woman with a model perfect man or a plus-size woman with a physically fit man or a beautiful woman with a man you don't find attractive. Can we please just keep our opinions to ourselves? My mama always said, "If you ain't got nothing nice to say, then keep your mouth shut." Can we please just let people be happy? You don't get to judge someone else's relationship unless you want your own relationship judged.  

You don't get to judge what they see in each other. Because, trust me, you're not seeing half of what he sees in her. He sees her heart and how deeply she loves. He sees her face without make-up sporting wrinkles from her pillowcase and her hair a mess. He sees that smile she gets when something sparks her sense of humor. He sees her head thrown back in laughter at some silly little joke. He sees her eyes sparkle with passion for whatever thing she's working on in the moment. He sees her struggle and still reassures her that she is the most beautiful being in his world. He also sees her cry when someone hurts her heart with their cruelty, whether it is intentional or not. And he sees her soul and the kindness she gives the world. 

Just know that all the time you're tearing their relationship apart and judging them, wondering what he could possibly see in "Her," he's working double time to make her understand that he's not going anywhere, that her beauty goes so much deeper than her physical appearance. He's proving to this woman he loves that going beyond the looking glass is more important than what the world holds in importance.

The Art of Accepting a Compliment

Why is it so hard for us to accept a compliment? Maybe you don't have that issue. But I do. Someone compliments something I've made and I can always point out a flaw. "Oh, thank you, but it didn't turn out like I'd hoped." Someone comes into my home and says, "It looks amazing" and my response usually involves picking at some little thing that didn't get done. Nevermind trying to compliment me personally. 

I am told often throughout my day that I'm beautiful or amazing or incredible or any other wonderful adjective that can be used to describe another human. And I shrug it off because people see a mere illusion when they see me, right? But there is one voice that has broken through the cacophony and brought me to my knees.

I have someone in my life who insists on a photo of me every single day. And with every pic I send, he will tell me that I'm pretty or beautiful. He's half a world away at the moment, but he always takes time from his day to make me feel so special. He gets me to brag on myself, my work ethic, or any other thing that makes me feel like I'm enough. 

When we started this, he would compliment me and I'd always find something negative to say. I would point out each and every flaw possible. When I started getting remarks from him saying things like "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, right?" or "Do you not believe me?," I really began to think about the heart of the man paying me these compliments. 

What's he getting from telling me how beautiful I am? Nothing, other than the satisfaction of making me feel good about myself. What gain does he receive from telling me how perfect or amazing I am in his eyes? Again, nothing. He simply wants me to know how he feels and how he sees me. 

He knows I'm difficult. He gets that my self-esteem is high some days and extremely low other days. But can I tell you something that I don't think even he understands? 

I look forward to sending him these pictures every day. Whether he gets one with a full-face of make-up or one where I am still in bed with my face full of wrinkles from my pillowcase and bed head, I find beauty within as I snap each pic. 

I used to make him ask each day. Because, in my opinion, who could possibly need to see ME every single day? Turns out that this man does. And I don't make him ask anymore. Even on days when I feel like shit, I still send him a pic. 

I've discovered that he does that to make sure that I'm okay. Some days, I receive the message that says "You look stressed." You can hide a lot behind a computer screen. You cannot hide much in a photo...especially when you are the end of your rope and ready to fall apart. 

Don't get me wrong...we still tease and pick at each other because that's who we are. As much as I have grown accustomed to reading his appreciation of my beauty, inside and out, it is the "You make my heart smile" or "You make me laugh" that fills my heart to the capacity that it overflows all over the place. 

I grew up in a family where my grandma and mom were seldom in pictures. If they were, they would put their hands over their faces and try to hide. You know the pictures I crave seeing these days? Yep, it is pictures of Grandma and Mom simply because it brings them closer to me.

Some day, I hope the man who is a half a world away reads this and knows that no matter what happens between us... he understands how far he's brought me in learning to simply say "Thank you" when he gives me compliment.

 

Tomorrow is the Day

 Tomorrow is a very big day for me and I am so very excited!

To others, it will be an ordinary Saturday. But for me? For me, tomorrow is a sort of awakening. 

Years ago, Roseanne did an episode where she did a boudoir photo shoot for her wedding anniversary. When I watched that episode, my only thought was that it seemed to be a very freeing experience. Problem was, back then, a lot of the boudoir photographers were a bit on the seedier side.

Fast forward to 2020 when I discovered a boudoir photographer who has this extraordinary talent that allows a woman's true beauty to shine through. I signed up for a session and have managed to talk myself in and out of actually doing the session at least 30 times in the last few months. But tomorrow? Tomorrow is the day!

I have spent the last month preparing my wardrobe, making sure my hair was trimmed to the perfect style, choosing the look to achieve, and watching my self-confidence escalate.

The last week, I have done facials, gotten my nails done, scrubbed and moisturized myself until my skin is as smooth as possible.

Nails by Pa

And tomorrow is the day. The day when I let go of my ideas of what beauty looks like. The day when I make myself vulnerable. The day that I refuse to look at my flaws. The day that I see what the people who love me best have been seeing all along. The day when I open myself up to the process. The day where I believe that I'm sexy and beautiful.

Tomorrow is the day. Whether it is an extraordinary day or just a normal Saturday, embrace it and the journey! We only get one life! Live it to the fullest!!

Falling Apart

This week has been a lesson in how wonderful things fall apart in order for even better things to come together.

In my last blogpost, I was in a bad spot with someone I trusted and confided in. However, I came to the conclusion that I needed to do something big to change my stars. In a matter of days, I did exactly that.

I also had to let go of something that meant more to me than anything else. In hanging on, I had done myself more damage than I realized. Once I let go, everything began to fall into place. And I do mean everything. Do you want to know what happened?

I became happy! I found such joy in life. The dark clouds parted and the sunshine lit up my world. My happy lights me up from the inside out which only makes me more beautiful. That beauty boosts my confidence. My confidence boosts my level of sexy. My level of sexy boosts my confidence higher and the circle keeps going on and on.

I am doing this thing where I am helping a very dear lady and friend promote her business. I was terrified when I first approached her, but the more I let go of things, the more steady and balanced I'm feeling. And I cannot wait to see what comes out of these next 6 months. She knows she is changing lives with what she does. She is showing women that they are beautiful and sexy, which boosts their confidence. And there are friendships that are forming. Deep lasting friendships that only secure the foundation of what my friend is building. 

By letting go of the things that are bad for us (relationships, thoughts, insecurities, inhibitions, beliefs), we grow into more than we ever dreamed we could be and we become more loving toward ourselves. In everything falling apart, something even better can come together to take its place.

So, as the world is falling apart in front of us, maybe this isn't exactly the year we were expecting. However, from it may spring forth a better, stronger world.

I know, for me, 2020 has not been what I expected by any stretch of the imagination, but what is coming is so much better than I dared dream was possible. I just had to let things fall apart so that better things could come together.

The Moth

I am so blessed to be part of a community of women who lift each other up, empower each other, and just enjoy one another's company. Sure, we get a little rowdy and exchange more than a couple of slightly naughty things, but damn, do they know how to make a woman feel proud to be a woman.

The other day, a member of the group shared this meme: 

I had to roll this over in my mind for a bit before I commented. After all, moths are usually considered nuisances who cling to your screen door in the summer. We seldom discuss moths. When we think of moths, the dullness of colors comes to mind. And, well, let's be honest...they're not as beautiful as butterflies, right?

Then, a friend (not a part of this group) posted a picture of a moth she had found. It was gorgeous! I couldn't believe how stunning this moth was. 

That was when it hit me...HARD. Moths are just as beautiful as butterflies, but they serve many of the same purposes (pollination being a huge one). Moth bodies are a bit fuzzier, fuller, heavier. Moths aren't as flashy in their colors, but they are still beautiful. Instead of needing the sunshine to bounce of their wings to flash their colors, moths have the moonlight. You may have to look a little harder to find the beauty, but it is most certainly there. 

That's when I realized that I am more moth than butterfly. My body isn't slender by ANY definition. My colors are a little more vibrant than some, but the darkness? Oh, the darkness will allow you to see me in my full glory. 

I have spent the last too many decades of my life trying to fit a square peg in a round  hole. For so long, I've tried to be what society deems as beautiful and if I'm not, then I must be horrifically ugly, right? Wrong! (And I seldom will admit this to anyone.) I was so incredibly wrong. 

This is one of the favorite things I've read in a long time:

So, I am on a mission in this my 48th year of life. I am going to stop comparing myself to other women. Because while I may not be their kind of beautiful, I am my own kind of beautiful and that matters, too. And I don't want to be the kind of beautiful that just shows on the outside. I want my beauty to radiate from the inside out and shine brightly in the darkness. After all, moths are attracted to light, right? Maybe this means I'll find even more of my tribe.

When Did You Stop Dancing?

The dreaded birthday has came and went. Lots of sadness and wistfulness have flooded my soul. I have cried until I can cry no more. I have my up days and my down days, but I made it through.

I've been sitting in the moment and letting my days wash over me. I'm finally coming out of the fog and moving forward with life.

The above quote has been weighing on my mind a lot lately. As someone who has Native blood coursing through her veins and feels more in touch with herself when she's near water, I've pondered the questions.

When did I stop dancing? Goodness. It's been a long time. I seldom turn on the music and just cut loose these days. I'm not quite sure why, but I just don't. I used to dance all the time. Badly, mind you, but I still danced.

When did I stop singing? It's been a while for that, too. I am someone who loves music. It is a very HUGE part of my life. The only time I even listen to music these days is on my  way to and from work.  And I love to sing. I've been singing most of my life. For some reason, I've just stopped.

When did I stop being enchanted by stories? I'm not really sure anymore. I am a reader. Once upon a time, I would devour stories at the rate of a book or more a day. These days, I can't remember the last book I read. I pre-ordered a book for myself as soon as I could. It sits on my nightstand with an uncracked cover. By the same token, I've also quit writing my own stories. I just have no desire to write these days and I don't know why.

I can't remember the last time I walked barefoot in the grass or just sat in the sunshine. I'm so ungrounded and off-kilter these days. I haven't spent a lot of time staring up at the stars in infinite wonder and spoke to the moon of wishes and dreams. 

Instead, I've simply held onto the hurt, depression, and anxiety, allowing the darkness to wrap around me like a blanket.

So, today, I have opened up all the curtains and let the sun flood my world. I turned the music on. I still haven't sang, but I'll get there. Dancing? Well, that may have to wait for another day. (I have a dog who gets WAY too excited. LOL)

So, if you're feeling down, let me ask you, "When did you stop dancing? When did you quit singing? When were you last enchanted by stories?"

And for today, turn on your music and dance! Who cares how silly you look? Laugh. Be young again. And dance like no one is watching!

Let's Talk about Being Enough

Webster's Dictionary defines "enough" as: "occurring in such quantity, quality or scope as to fully meet demands, needs, or expectations."

So, riddle me this: Why does a woman have a demand, need, or expectation placed on her to satisfy society? I cannot for the life of me figure this out!

For many years (and I do mean many), I wasn't enough. I wasn't skinny enough, pretty enough, smart enough, ambitious enough, demure enough...you name it and I wasn't enough. I tried. I really did, but nothing I did could meet the expectations of friends, family, or society. Because of that, I have walked through my life, bearing the cross that I'll never be enough.

I wore glasses when other girls didn't. I bit my nails. I dressed like a tomboy. I played dumb so boys would like me. I couldn't decide what I wanted to be when I grew up. I preferred getting lost in a book to being outside. I didn't mind being alone. I didn't date much. I like eating a lot more than I like exercising.

A few years ago, I met a man who promised me that I was enough. He walked with me on this journey and helped me smash the records in my head that spewed the vile things I'd been telling myself my entire life. He declared me "perfect"...until my anxiety and depression got the better of me. Then, I became "too much" and "not worth the effort." He stepped back and walked out of my life without looking back. In the blink of an eye, I went from being "not enough" to "too much."

Where is the line? Do you know?

It has taken a lot of time to heal myself (and it is still a work in progress) from my past. One thing that I've discovered over the years is this: I will always be "not enough" for some people, too much for others, but for the people who love me...I will always be enough.

I owe nothing to anyone. If you don't find me beautiful, I'm good with that. You don't think I'm thin enough, fine. You think I'm high maintenance, good thing you don't foot the bill to maintain me. I'm too vocal/blunt/over the top/emotional when it comes to my feelings and opinions? Then, don't listen to me. I will not force anyone to be my friend. You haven't walked my journey, just as I haven't walked yours. I will sit with you and not judge you, but I expect the same courtesy.

Do not force yourself into a box to satisfy societal needs. Do not shrink yourself down or hide your true self away because people can't handle you. Be you! That is the advice I wish I would have gotten years ago. The world needs YOU! It's YOU that makes this world such a unique and wonderful place!

I will tell you this: You ARE enough! You ARE beautiful enough! You ARE smart enough! You ARE  special enough! You ARE enough! And you ARE loved!!

Stumbling Through the Years

A subject that is very close to my heart these days is aging or to put it bluntly, getting old. The phrase "growing old gracefully" would never be used to define my process. I am finding myself stumbling through the years.

For so long, I've dreaded growing older. It didn't matter that it was going to happen unless my ashes had been scattered to the winds. It mattered that I didn't want to ever be old. So, I have fought it all the way. I color my hair to hide the grays. I take vitamins and supplements to help hide the sagging skin and aching bones. I don't dress my age (though I'm not exactly sure how a woman my age dresses). On a good day, I can pass for less than 40 and that makes me happy.

However, something I have discovered is that while I care how I look, being a woman of a certain age affords me things that I haven't considered. I am more willing to let go of certain inhibitions. I don't care if people stare if I am on the arm of a man considerably younger than myself. I dress how I feel comfortable and if someone is uncomfortable with that, then that someone can bite me. I tend to speak my mind a bit more. I'm not afraid to flex my brain and show my intelligence. I'm also a bit more willing to admit that I'm wrong. Aging has afforded me all of this. 

When I speak, I speak from experience and mistakes . When I give advice, I don't sugarcoat the words. I'm blunt and to the point. I don't promise that my advice is the best, but I do guarantee that whatever it is, you'll get through it. 

I've learned to take care of me, for me. It may mean a day of grocery shopping, cooking, and doing my hair. It may also mean lying in bed, watching shows to soothe my soul, and letting go of whatever is on my mind. I'm not afraid to take some time for me. Some days, I still want to build a blanket fort, crawl inside with some chocolate milk, Cheetos, and a good book, and kill a day, but I keep struggling through the pain.

I have also learned to not be so restrictive on myself. I don't deny myself the things that make me happy. People, especially women, used to approach me and make rude comments about my clothing choices. Women, I didn't know, thought their opinion needed to be heard. Quite frankly, I don't let them get to me anymore. It still happens, but I don't let it bother me. If you feel the need to comment on my weight, my hair color, my marital status, or my clothing, trust me, it says more about you than it does about me.

And I'm learning to like myself. There are still days when I look in the mirror to get ready for work and groan. But there are more days when I can look at my reflection and like what I see. I know the woman in the mirror is trying her best. I know her heart and her soul are good. I know that the twinkle in her eye shows her mischievous side. I know that underneath the plethora of colors on her head lies a brain filled with knowledge and aching to know more. I know the hands applying the make-up have worked hard and played just as hard. I also know the body may be soft and squishy, but it has been held by the very best this world can offer.

I will never be one who ages with grace. I will continue to stumble through the years, but I will do it with style and confidence. And if I'm lucky, maybe most people will mistake the stumble for a dance.

I Am Beautiful at 47

Being beautiful, fortunately, doesn't have an expiration date. You can be beautiful at any age. It isn't only the young women with their golden locks or the older women with their gorgeous grays. Every woman is beautiful at every age.

So, let's really get this journey started, okay? I am 47 years old and am on the downhill tumble to 48. And, trust me, this is not easy for me. I had so much I wanted to do and I expected to be in such a different space than I am in. However...I am so very blessed and I can honestly say that I wouldn't change a thing.

For years, I was told to act my age. I've always refused. Why act older than you feel? Why is it an embarrassment when women don't act in a manner that society believes they should portray at a particular age? Call me a rebel, but dammit, I am tired of society telling me who I should be!

I color my hair fun colors. I dress a lot younger. But, what's inside, now that's where the attitude lives. Anyone who knows me outside of the internet knows there is a HUGE attitude within me and often it emerges in ways that some would call "rebellion".

My mother will tell you that I was born with the attitude of living life on my own terms. And why change that now? I spent a lifetime trying to fit into the molds I was told to fit into and I wasn't happy. Once I broke free of everyone else's expectations, I've been told that I am more myself than I have ever been before. Well, look at that, will ya? 

I've also been told I carry myself with confidence. Now, that I will laugh at simply because I have very little. At least, when it comes to my looks. My brains and my knowledge of certain subjects? Absolutely. My mind is a very unique place and I know what I know and I know it well. Put me on a college campus and you can rest assured that confidence oozes from my pores. However, you put me out in the world and I try to meld into the background. (How a woman with multicolored hair does that, I'm still not sure.)

Yesterday, I was at work. There was a client that came through the office doors and her words touched me. "I'm so glad you're here. You know so much and can answer just about any question. I'm just so thankful." I laughed and told her that I had her fooled since I'm just fumbling along most days. It made her chuckle, but, damn, it felt good to hear that I'm helping people.

I've spent 47 years on this planet and I've learned a lot of lessons along the way. I live softly and love loudly. I believe most people are good and deserve to be loved. My heart is filled to overflowing with compassion, empathy, and pure happiness. I've been through Hell, but I've come out ahead. My wounds and scars are what makes me unique and my uniqueness makes me beautiful...to the outside world. 

I've got a long way to go and I'm learning new things about myself every single day. And you, my dear, are not alone. We are all in this together. 

Be humble and kind to others, but most importantly, to yourself. This life isn't about the destination, it's all about the journey. And, I think, we're all in for one helluva ride!

What Makes You Beautiful?

This has been a journey I have been on for most of my life. I hear the word "beautiful" used to describe me and I scoff. I don't see it. I see every single flaw and I fight against the positive descriptive words that people use.

Does it make it untrue? No. One of my favorite memes that I've seen is the comparison in roses and sunflowers, fireworks and Christmas lights. They are all beautiful, but they're unique to one another. 

Just like women! We are all so special and unique. I sat in a Women's Studies class and we were discussing intersectionality. We are not JUST women. We are very similar, yet so diverse. Some of us are mothers, others are not. Some work outside in the world, others stay home. Some have jobs, some go to school. Some are married, others in relationships, others are single. And the list goes on.

YOU are special! In a time when this virus is keeping us in our homes and some are glued to social media, we get lost in the world that exists behind our screens. This is a reminder for you to not get lost in everyone else's idea of happiness. You don't know the struggle behind the pictures. The happy images you see about someone's life isn't always the truth.

I wanted to create a safe space for women to meet up, comment, share their stories, and find support. That is why this blog was created. There will be no bashing allowed. This is a no judgement zone. 

So, let's come together and have conversations about what makes us beautiful. One of these days in the near future, I will share my journey and story for you all. If you would like to share your story, please comment here and I'll contact you. You have no idea who needs to hear your story, who needs to know they're not alone, and the difference you could make. 

Have a blessed day! You are loved!