In the era of the early-to-mid 1980’s, I was a young adult, just finding my way, spreading my wings. I was very excited about the possibilities before me, and, I daresay, quite the little fashion diva. I was a hairdresser and loved fashion. My original intention, in fact, was to work as a hairdresser for a few years, make lots of money, and save up to go to the Parson’s School of Design in New York. I really took to fashion in those days. That all got destroyed during an unfortunate marriage and subsequent divorce. I just got caught up in other things and got off course and forgot all about it.
Then after pregnancy and relinquishment, I lost myself – so much so, in fact, that I remember looking in the mirror within 2 years of becoming a birth mother and searching earnestly within my own eyes. The words of this thought reverberated not just through my head but throughout my whole being, ‘There used to be someone living in here…I wonder where she went…’ So, in losing myself, I lost the ability to connect with my own sense of style for many years. And then, eventually, as the years dragged on and on being separated from the person who became the single most important person in my life, I completely lost my give a rip.
That bothered me. I would dress up, but there never was a connection with it the way there was before getting tossed to and fro from one crisis to another. I used to care. And it bothered me that I didn’t care and that I couldn’t find it within myself to connect with the ability to care. And I prayed, earnestly, that I could care again. Caring about the way I looked may sound superficial, but there’s something in it for me, something within my identity, that was lost. I don’t really know how to explain it other than I just liked the girl I was when I truly cared. I cared – passionately – about a great many things that I somehow lost connection with. In my early 20’s, the way I looked was part of my art, a part of the art of me, and that art was – or at least it felt – vital…alive...
Well, something’s happened in the last couple of weeks. I’ve been hitting the thrift shops – hard! And I’ve been buying clothes – lots and lots of beautiful clothes. They look beautiful. They feel beautiful. I’ve been washing these garments, and concerning myself with how they are dried and shaped. And you know something? It feels really good!!!
And we have a new pope – from Argentina (the beautiful Argentineans)! And he asked us to pray for him! And he smiled! I just found his unveiling so beautiful…and so hopeful…!
That must be it: The beauty and hope had been missing from my life – or perhaps it had just been in hiding or in exile. In any case, Hello beauty! Hello hope! I have missed you so…so, so, so…! I’m ecstatic to see you again!! You are very happily welcomed!!!