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!

Welcome!

Good morning and welcome to a brand new blog! I am so excited to be able to share this journey with you! 
A few years ago, I did a class project about being beautiful at any age. Life got the best of me and I deleted the blog though I'd been asked to keep it going. Making a difference didn't seem to matter to me as much when depression overtook my life.
However, recently I met a woman who inspired me to start a new blog and have some very real discussions. So, here we are and I'm so excited to be back, blogging about things that matter.
The name of this blog popped into my head this morning as I was getting ready for work and here we are. 
Beauty is found in so many places besides a woman's looks. Her heart. Her confidence. Her drive. Her soul. All of these things make a woman beautiful. In a society so hell-bent on only seeing the outside of a woman, I think we need to delve deeper. I was raised to believe that beauty comes from the inside and shines out.
I know so many beautiful women. We come in all shapes, sizes, and colors.
So, please join me on this journey! It will never be boring and it's always nice to have a friend to walk with you, even if it is only for a few miles.