Feeling Good
I haven't updated in far too long, although in this case, silence isn't necessarily a bad thing. (Everybody's fine, including Dad, I promise.) Despite the silence, I am feeling good. Actually, I'm Feeling Good, because it's so good that it merits capitalization. It's the kind of feeling that makes you strut around to some mental soundtrack, ready to kick some ass and handle whatever problem comes along.
The reasons why I'm Feeling Good are simultaneously complex and laughably simple, but I'm going to talk about them anyway. *g*
As I said, there are a number of things going on here (weight loss, success with the fitness plan, professional changes, etc.), and all of them have contributed to some degree. But at bottom, this new attitude amounts to me taking a good hard look at myself and realizing that I'd drifted away from things that make me feel good--and make me feel good about myself. Like, for example, primping. This may sound horribly shallow, but I like to primp. I like wearing makeup, not because I feel it's expected or I feel a need to hide my "true face", or [insert first-wave feminist argument here], but because... well, I really enjoy it. I like putting it on. I like experimenting with it. I like wearing stylish clothes. I love shoes and particularly boots to a degree that may not be quite healthy, and (depending on the occasion) the taller, the better. I like jewelry and scarves. I like wearing hats. I loved being involved in theater and dance because of the costumes they allowed me to wear (with the notable exception of the much-loathed nun's habit in Sound of Music, tyvm), and Halloween is still probably my favorite holiday for the same reason. I love interesting fabrics and unusual details and... well, you get the picture, I'm sure. And it's not for other people; it's for my own personal satisfaction.
Somewhere along the line, without quite realizing it, I started ignoring that very peacock-y side of myself. I suspect that I (stupidly) thought I needed to suppress it in order to be Taken Seriously. (Which... there's a difference between dressing in an appropriately professional way and completely changing your external/internal conception of who you are, and I'm afraid I went the latter route.) I thought I had to choose between my heart and my brain, apparently, as though caring for my outer self meant neglecting my inner one. I started to hide in my clothes, instead of feeling good in them. And of course, the more you do that, the more ingrained the habit becomes, and the more you delude yourself into thinking that you've always been like this, haven't you? But I haven't. And it wasn't making me happy. It was, in fact, making me feel terrible about the way I looked, and I suspect that discontent bled over into other areas as well, since those emotional containment units are never as leak-proof as we like to believe.
I have thought about this quite a lot, actually, and I realized that this time in my life is a good one for making a lot of changes, so why not embrace that opportunity to let my peacock side out again? Why shouldn't I feel good about the way I look? Why should I feel I have to apologize for something that makes me happy and defines a part of who I am? Why should I give a damn what anybody else thinks? (This, as far as I can tell, is the best part of leaving my twenties in the dust, this feeling confident in my own choices and not bothering to care about the judgments other people make.) There are limits to this, obviously, but overall, this is a good thing. It's even a Good Thing. :D
So. I have done my nails, pulled out my favorite boots, discovered clothes I haven't worn in years (which fit better now than they did then), and just generally allowed my peacock self to strut again. Let me tell you: it feels really, really good. Brilliant. Like I can breathe again. Like I'm a confident woman who knows what she wants (which is true most of the time, anyway...). It's quite amazing to realize what an impact a few relatively small changes can have on a person's entire outlook. My peacock tail might be a bit dusty from being in storage this long, but I'm still strutting it, and I don't plan to stop anytime soon. ;-)
I hereby declare this the week of Feeling Good... hopefully, I can make it an era!
The reasons why I'm Feeling Good are simultaneously complex and laughably simple, but I'm going to talk about them anyway. *g*
As I said, there are a number of things going on here (weight loss, success with the fitness plan, professional changes, etc.), and all of them have contributed to some degree. But at bottom, this new attitude amounts to me taking a good hard look at myself and realizing that I'd drifted away from things that make me feel good--and make me feel good about myself. Like, for example, primping. This may sound horribly shallow, but I like to primp. I like wearing makeup, not because I feel it's expected or I feel a need to hide my "true face", or [insert first-wave feminist argument here], but because... well, I really enjoy it. I like putting it on. I like experimenting with it. I like wearing stylish clothes. I love shoes and particularly boots to a degree that may not be quite healthy, and (depending on the occasion) the taller, the better. I like jewelry and scarves. I like wearing hats. I loved being involved in theater and dance because of the costumes they allowed me to wear (with the notable exception of the much-loathed nun's habit in Sound of Music, tyvm), and Halloween is still probably my favorite holiday for the same reason. I love interesting fabrics and unusual details and... well, you get the picture, I'm sure. And it's not for other people; it's for my own personal satisfaction.
Somewhere along the line, without quite realizing it, I started ignoring that very peacock-y side of myself. I suspect that I (stupidly) thought I needed to suppress it in order to be Taken Seriously. (Which... there's a difference between dressing in an appropriately professional way and completely changing your external/internal conception of who you are, and I'm afraid I went the latter route.) I thought I had to choose between my heart and my brain, apparently, as though caring for my outer self meant neglecting my inner one. I started to hide in my clothes, instead of feeling good in them. And of course, the more you do that, the more ingrained the habit becomes, and the more you delude yourself into thinking that you've always been like this, haven't you? But I haven't. And it wasn't making me happy. It was, in fact, making me feel terrible about the way I looked, and I suspect that discontent bled over into other areas as well, since those emotional containment units are never as leak-proof as we like to believe.
I have thought about this quite a lot, actually, and I realized that this time in my life is a good one for making a lot of changes, so why not embrace that opportunity to let my peacock side out again? Why shouldn't I feel good about the way I look? Why should I feel I have to apologize for something that makes me happy and defines a part of who I am? Why should I give a damn what anybody else thinks? (This, as far as I can tell, is the best part of leaving my twenties in the dust, this feeling confident in my own choices and not bothering to care about the judgments other people make.) There are limits to this, obviously, but overall, this is a good thing. It's even a Good Thing. :D
So. I have done my nails, pulled out my favorite boots, discovered clothes I haven't worn in years (which fit better now than they did then), and just generally allowed my peacock self to strut again. Let me tell you: it feels really, really good. Brilliant. Like I can breathe again. Like I'm a confident woman who knows what she wants (which is true most of the time, anyway...). It's quite amazing to realize what an impact a few relatively small changes can have on a person's entire outlook. My peacock tail might be a bit dusty from being in storage this long, but I'm still strutting it, and I don't plan to stop anytime soon. ;-)
I hereby declare this the week of Feeling Good... hopefully, I can make it an era!