Once upon a time, I had a beautiful dress and a killer pair of shoes. I looked like a princess & felt beautiful in it. I also had a writing notebook that I thrilled to & wrote achingly beautiful poetry & flash fiction in. At the time, I was going through a lot of transitions in my life.
I needed all the princess reinforcements I could take.
One night, I went out after work. I had gotten changed out of my princess dress & killer shoes & put on capris & a tee & keds-as it was summer, and this was my "look". While we were out, the car had been broken into and my backpack was stolen.
Gone was my discman (as this was in the days prior to my ipod)
Gone was my super expensive, decadent salon hairspray and salon brush.
Gone were my 2 favorite cds at the time: everclear: so much for the afterglow and weezer: the green album.
Gone was my favorite travel mug from small world coffee.
Gone was my Bible, annotated and filled with post it notes, along with my annotated copy of Dantes Inferno, which I was reading for a class at seminary. Gone also was my prayer book, which also was annotated & deeply personal.
Gone was my make up bag filled with department store make up I loved. My sephora eye lash curler that made my eyes pop. My urban decay eye shadow palette. Gone was my estee lauper pale pink lipstick & bottle of beautiful, which was my signature scent at the time. Gone was my Chanel blush that made me feel so beautiful & shimmered on my cheeks perfectly. Gone was the forgotten brand of mascara & eye liner.
And gone, most heatbreakingly, was my journal, my dress and my shoes.
I had not thought about this incident in almost 10 years, but after I was done meditating last night, its ALL I've been thinking about.
And I realized since then, I stopped wearing pretty dresses and killer shoes.
I never replaced those cds.
I never replaced the make up or styling product.
My faith changed that day. It was like a walk had gone up between me and my G-d. It was a subtle change, but the near hysteria over my Lord was diminishing.
I soon shelved my career plans for ministry and went back to being just a girl.
I never again found an outfit that made me feel as good as that one did
And I stopped writing the way I had been.
I felt violated on such a personal level.
It was as if the very essence of me was stolen along with that backpack.
It occurred to me, that my life as I had known it, changed dramatically that day. I was 5 months post op from my myomectomy, the same time frame as I am from this recent hysterectomy. By the end of that summer, I had gone from a size 12 to an 18.
I no longer exercised.
It seemed as if this one moment had been responsible for all that.
It's odd, the things that bubble to the surface when you meditate. Maybe thinking about being pretty and buying something as decadent and beautiful as the whippycake designs made this resurface.
Maybe its hormones.
Maybe the universe is giving me a do over.
But today, as I wrote this, I walked for 2.2 miles and 40 minutes, using the hills program on my treadmill.
And today, I feel pretty.
Women of God can never be like women of the world. The world has enough women who are tough; we need women who are tender. There are enough women who are coarse; we need women who are kind. There are enough women who are rude; we need women who are refined. We have enough women of fame and fortune; we need more women of faith. We have enough greed; we need more goodness. We have enough vanity; we need more virtue. We have enough popularity; we need more purity. Margaret D. Nadauld
1 comment:
Nice and thanks!
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