Tonight I am free. I dropped my graduate class, finished a tiring day at the grind and solved at least 20 problems that I didn't own. If I was an egomaniac, I would coin myself as the Enjoli Woman of the New Millennium, with the innate ability to "bring home the bacon and fry it up in the pan" never letting my lover forget he's a man! But, I am far from egocentric and feel as sexy as shit on a shingle right now.
To date, I've lost 30 pounds, wore a low-cut linen dress today I haven't fit into since 2000 and have still retained a nice full bosom complete with a little cleavage. I never had that little extra umph when I was in my 20's, always wishing for more than a slight bump from my expensive miracle bra, a tease in the whole scheme of things. Push-up bras are equally as bad as stuffing your brassiere full of Puffs, the illusion is there but when it's time to reveal what's behind window number one, you don't want your guy to feel like he literally got the "boobie prize" instead finding a manifestation of haughty, naughty Victoria's Secret or worse, a Grannie Playtex elastic rocket launcher lacking the appropriate atomic bombs.
I have fleeting moments of self love and don't feel ashamed at admitting that fact. If not for me, then who? There are more instances of self loathing, so I relish those special moments of pride and happiness, knowing full well that once I take off that mischievous dress, with just a tad too much boobage showing, I will go to default and see myself with fat eyes.
I was a confident woman today, not the child I left behind a few months ago. It must be all those self help books or simply my bi-weekly appointments with a local shrink. With all this talk of evolution vs. creationism, I'd like to believe that I have emerged as a take-charge, self evolved feminist, constantly moving forward, looking back only to learn from my past mistakes, taking no prisoners. I'm a steamroller when I have to be and a fun loving, intelligent academic at other times, but I'd really just like to be me all the time. I'm not quite sure how to define who I am but my question to you is, "Can you handle it?"
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1 comment:
dear rene,
you are hilarious and right on. take heart--i have found that the only nice thing about the years passing by and the wrinkles and strange facial hair appearing at inappropriate times, and enough fat in places you never had it before to make a whale jealous, is that that the older you get, you start not to give a shit. it's the coolest! such freedom. ahhhh....
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