All morning I've been wondering what that smell is.
But it doesn't smell like me.
It is perfumey and sweet and floral.
Sometimes I feel like I try things on that aren't me, but I try to make them me. And maybe they'll become me. Like the flat ironed hair I tried out for months. The red lipstick. Ballet flats or even the fancy heels. A pretty purse instead of an actual bag that holds everything I need.
The older I get, the less patience I have for myself when I play dress up. I feel stiff, self conscious. I hold my body differently, and I am less at ease with my every day choices, it even impacts how I am with my children. Because I'm trying to be someone I'm not, through clothing or an image I have in my head.
When I slip into who I am... I can be here, present and engaged. So today, I reached to the back of my t-shirt drawer and found a shirt that I have been putting aside because I swore I wasn't there yet. I wasn't ready to be me so openly.
But I am.
I pulled out my comfy typewriter t-shirt that I swore I would only wear when I could consider myself a writer.
I slipped it on, with a bit of courage, and it is the comfiest shirt I own. It is soft, and it screams me. With a pair of soft corduroy pants, my favorite crazy colored beaded bracelet, my curly hair going a bit nuts around my head... I'm here. I'm on the floor playing with my kids. I am breathing in the crispness of my favorite season. I am smiling.
I am courageously me. Creative. Inspired. Perhaps even daring.
And ready to go find my regular deodorant....
Written with the prompt from the Creative Inspiration post from Bigger Picture Blogs. Check it out on our facebook page.