I’m Still Thinking

The new year has started. Millions(?) of people made new year resolutions and half of them have already failed. I can’t have broken my resolution yet because I haven’t made one. I’m thinking it might be fashion related. I found the Dress Your Truth site as I was trying to figure out what I am supposed to wear.

I cannot figure out what “season” I am. The clothes that an hourglass shape woman is supposed to wear are usually a little more, um, how do I say this, ¬†hoochie mama, body conscious, than I feel comfortable wearing. So, I found this quiz on Pinterest and stumbled upon a new way of looking at my clothes. I found a new way to look at myself.

For the first time ever I neatly fit into a category. As I learned about the 4 types of DYT women, I agreed with almost every statement about the Type 2 woman. The personality type fit! I was so excited, until I saw the clothes that Type 2 women are supposed to wear. I didn’t like any of them. What was wrong? Should I retake the quiz? I took some time to think about my current wardrobe.

What type were the clothes I already had? Most of them would fit into the Type 1 closet. What about the outfits that I really love? Um, well, I don’t think I have any of those. I don’t own one article of clothing that I love. Nothing that makes me feel beautiful, nothing that feels like me. Why did I buy these clothes?

I have been trying to be someone I am not. My husband is a “get things done” person. He’ll make of list of things to do and before the ink is dry he has already completed one thing. And for some strange reason, he thinks I should be like him.

I have always wanted to be friendly and outgoing, a cheerleader. I looked at my nature as something to overcome. I gravitated toward bright, cheery clothing. Hot pink with polka dots. I wanted to be bright pink with polka dots, but I’m not. I’m soft blue lace.

I took two months to go through the 30-day Dress Your Truth challenge. I am a Type 2, I need more time. I went back to watch the videos discussing the clothes of Type 2 women and I found I liked them more than I did two months ago. I went through my closet and moved most of my clothes to the back. I ordered two shirts and two pairs of shoes. I have a ways to go.

I want to celebrate who I am. I want people to know that I am quiet and sensitive. I want my clothes to convey to others who I am. This year I’m not going to be a “New Me”. I am going to be the me I have always been, but have been to scared to be.

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Sometimes I just have to cry

Today is a hard day for me. Some years the anniversary of my mother’s death goes past without me noticing. If we are on vacation or travelling or sometimes I just don’t know what the date is during the summer. This year I have been dreading July 31 for weeks. It came and went and I was fine. But. Today is August 1st. On this day six years ago I woke up without my mom. I remember going downstairs and noticing her bedroom door was open. Before reality crashed in I thought “Oh good, she’s up.” She was gone. Gone. I could never see her again. I could never call her again. There is no way to describe the feeling of knowing she was gone from the world.
I don’t know why I’m having such a difficult time today. I just can’t stop crying. I want my Mama. I miss her and it still hurts.
Grief must be one of those spiral things. You feel like you are just going around and around, but really at the same time you are moving up. The weeks following her death I couldn’t sleep. I would watch the numbers change on my clock for hours. I would cry, full body sobs every night. I still miss her, but I do sleep through the night. I do miss her, but I don’t cry every day. I miss her, but I can find joy in watching my girls swim in the pool. I can find comfort in my family. I can hear a James Taylor song without completely loosing it.
A couple of weeks ago I had a girls weekend in Portland. When my mom was alive she and her sisters got together every year (usually with my grandma). I was fortunate to be able to join them a few times. This is the first time we have been together since Mama died. I hope that we will continue to get together, but I don’t know if that will happen. We didn’t talk about Mama, but I’m sure we all thought about her. She would have had a fabulous time with us.
I think I’m feeling better. I can breathe, my eyes aren’t burning. As long as no one asks “are you OK?” I should be fine.