I'm wavering between that time when things are okay, maybe even OKAY and that time where you are slipping off the edge, softly at first into the troubled water of dissatisfaction. I am fighting it, it's been a good stint. But, somewhere internally, a shift has been called and my neurons are leaning in that disjunctive direction. Which is why, as writers do, I will suspend time a bit here and try to recover my fine balance.
I love shoes. I left a gray pair at Ross's that I am craving still yet. At $12, they were just a bit too tight, and so I left them, tangled within the piles of shoes at every angle. Yet, I think of them still, and shopped the internet l o o k i n g for another pair, wider or longer. Nothingcanbefoundthough(sigh). I still long for smaller feet, more narrow that could wear all types of shoes. But, I would be poor from the buying. Spent on leather and buckles and sparkly straps. So, it is probably better that the adorable shoe alludes me...most of the time.
I always thought I wasn't girly. Because I didn't weigh ten pounds in the 6th grade, and the size 5 dresses that my mama wanted to buy would never fit or even look like me. It took growing up a l o t to consider that girly is just that feminine intuition, that migration towards the makeup isle, that shimmy to the salon, that plucky purse passion. I see it now, that whatever you are, you can be everything else too. YOu can choose a few. YOu can choose nothing. All the same, your imprint has been made on the world. YOu have exchanged elements. YOu got here and all you have to do for the rest of your life is be who you want to be. Which is difficult enough, I allow. But far less daunting than feeling as though you shouldn't be. At all.
So, shoes and makeup, jewelry and sometimes purses make me happy. I'm a girl and I'm a little girly. And I like it.