Harper Valley Mermaid

I have often joked that I only ever wear a bra when I go to a school function, such as a PTA Board meeting (which I have sat on many PTA Boards over the last 10 years - believe it or not), or a football game (sometimes I leave the bra at home for these - if it's hot - haha), or Orientation Day at the Elementary School.

I heard in the last several months, somewhere, that it does a woman's breasts more benefit if she does not wear a bra, as it strengthens the breast muscles, leading to less sagging over time.  Well ... I am glad to hear this!  Mine should be really strong by now.

Sometimes, I am going somewhere and one of my kids will notice I am not wearing a bra, and say so.  I always shrug, because, of course, I know this - and it is my way of telling them that this choice I make is MY choice and I will not allow anyone to take it away from me - not even them.  I know that there are people that hate this - that there are people that obsess over the fact that I seldom wear a bra.  I don't care.  I am not living my life to please everybody - and those I do choose to please, take me as I am and tolerate the things about me they do not find "conservative" enough.  Those that do not, do not stay around for very long.

One of my daughter's posted this drawing on her Facebook of this beautiful mermaid (she's considering for a future tattoo).  I made a comment that I thought the mermaid would look pretty with her head thrown back, her face to the sky and her breasts showing more.  One of my daughter's friends (a mutual friend of mine, also) followed my comment with, "Kellan, you think everyone should show their breasts more."   I guess it's true - haha.  I think a woman's breasts are beautiful and so much a part of what makes women sensual and appealing - not just to men, but to the world.  

And, as far as mermaids go ... they never wear a bra and always have beautiful breasts - I think we should see them.  I could be wrong about this.  I don't think so ... :)

For the record ... I'm pretty sure I was a mermaid in a previous life.  It would totally explain my love of water and ... no bra :)

Green is Not My Color

My daughter asked me why I didn't talk to her, she said, "I thought you were friends."

It was an awkward moment.  I really didn't want to explain to my daughter the thing that had happened in that moment when I had seen my friend - saw that she had seen me, but turned away, refusing or choosing not to acknowledge me.

I knew what had happened.  I have seen it before and knew what had happened.  Some things you just know.  Even though you don't want to acknowledge the truth or maybe, even, believe that you are accurate in your assumptions, you know.  Many of my friends tell me that I have the strongest intuition of anyone they know, and that so often it is absolute and accurate.  It is true, as I have experienced its accuracy my entire life, and have come to depend on it to guide me.

Why did I hesitate to tell my daughter?  Because it hurt me.  Not because the friend shunned me, while that was hurtful.  It was because of why I believe she shunned me.  The moment she turned away, I knew why.  So ... this reason hurt me, and ... trying to find the words to explain it to my daughter, hurt me.

But ... I told her.  I told her the woman and I had, indeed, been friends, until recently when it became obvious to me that I made her uncomfortable.  And, my making her uncomfortable, makes me uncomfortable.  So ... when I saw that she had turned away, I chose not to pursue her.  I could have pushed my way past the wall she had suddenly put up, but I chose not to.  It was one of those small moments in life when you choose to save yourself, protect your feelings, over someone elses.  It is not something I do carelessly, but when I finally make that choice, I have concluded that, in my mind, I am right about the situation, and whomever is hurting me needs to be let go.

My daughter pushed to know more.  I didn't want to go into it, as what I would tell her could and might sound presumptuous, could be interpreted as hateful on my part, could be construed as egotistical.  I knew that only years and years of experience with this sort of thing would and does make the situation more understandable.  I did not want to suggest anything to my daughter that might, in anyway, be taken the wrong way and influence her negatively in how she might treat or react to people in her life in the future.

But ... I told her.  I told her the woman was jealous.  I make the woman uncomfortable when I am around her.  It is never my intention, but it happens.  I told my daughter that because I was dressed up and the woman was not, I believed that is why she ignored me.  And when I saw my friend's reaction, my defenses went up.  My defenses went up because, in that moment, the woman made me feel bad about myself, when I had no reason to.  

It is the irony and ammunition of jealousy - the ugliness it can create in one person, can ripple out, a dark cloud that can envelop others in its path.  I told my daughter I would not allow that.  I would not allow a person that felt bad about themselves to make me feel bad about myself, just so it would make them feel better.  I've done it, many times in my life - sacrificed my pride and dignity to sustain and encourage others - only when, and because, I knew I had the strength to continue to protect myself.  I still have the strength and a strong sense of self - I just no longer have the patience for a monster that is unforgiving and rarely tamable.

I saw this quote recently, "Everyone pities the weak - jealousy you have to earn."  There is a lot of truth in this.  I also saw, "Just because she's beautiful, doesn't mean you're not."  There is even more truth in that.

Bare and Bohemian

Sometimes ... I choose the outfit to match the shoes I want to wear.

Sometimes ... I choose the outfit and then search my closet for the perfect pair.

Mostly ... I don't even wear shoes at all.

What is it about shoes that women love so much, aside from the fact that there are so many to choose from, and women love to have a choice when it comes to anything?  With me ... it is the way a certain pair of great shoes can make you feel.  I slip them on and immediately know if the particular pair I've chosen represents my personality well for that day.  I seldom give much thought to the comfort of a shoe over the aesthetic benefits.  If it is a gorgeous shoe and makes me feel gorgeous, I am going to wear them even if they hurt like hell.

Someone asked me recently if I had to pick one pair of shoes to live with the rest of my life, which ones would they be?  I chose ... no shoes - barefoot.  This is not because I would have a difficult time narrowing down all of my shoes (which are A LOT of shoes - haha) to just one pair.  It is because I am truly the most comfortable when I am barefoot.  I am one of those women you might see on a busy city street, carrying her high-heels in one hand and her packages in another.   It is one of the things I like most about shoes - the putting them on and the taking them off.  

It's a dilemma, really, sometimes, for me ...because there are often moments when there is nothing in the world that can make me feel better - prettier, sexier, more together, than an amazing pair of beautiful shoes.   And even though a pair of shoes can make me taller by 3, 4, or 5 inches, and even though they can make my legs look long and elegant and smooth and sexy, and even though they match my outfit perfectly and sparkle and shine in any light ... I will, more often than not, shed those shoes, leaving myself looking and feeling a bit bare and bohemian.  It is what I like most, in that moment.  The feeling of freedom.  The appearance of not being all together, but being completely comfortable with the contradiction, and knowing better.   Clothed and then unclothed.

As beautiful as the perfect shoes can make a woman look - it is my opinion that there is nothing more sexy and appealing and beautiful than a women wearing no shoes at all.  Farrah Fawcett knew this; she seldom wore shoes, and she was one of the sexiest, most beautiful women ever.


(And ... for the record, this is not true at all for men.  Keep your shoes on, except at the beach and in the bedroom - haha!)

Some of Us Mothers

So ... it was National Tequila Day and one of my daughters came home from work, said she and her friends were going out and so she invited me.  Initially, I had said no, but at the last minute I decided to go - join her and her group of 20-something-year old friends.

They were young - some tattooed.  Gages in their ears.  Piercings in their noses.  All so nice and courteous and non-conventional, according to the standards of my generation, but ... ALL included me - a 50-something-year-old mother of one of their gay friends.  

We talked.  I got to know them - where they worked - what they liked to do - how they were spending their summers aside from working.

At the end of the night they hugged me.  One said, "It was so nice to meet you - you're really cool.  You should meet my mother."

Some of us mother's find it amazing that our children grow into these people that find time to make sure they still include us in their lives.  

Some of us mother's find it amazing that these children we coddled and protected and nurtured ... turned into these people that we are so very proud to call our children - and other people are proud to call their friends.

Some of us mother's find it amazing that these children we loved and cherished and raised ... look to us in their young adult lives ... as their friends, as well as their parents.

Some of us mother's find it amazing that these children ... that are somehow, miraculously making their way in this wicked and magnificent world ... are OUR beloved children.

Some of us mothers ... are so very blessed ... <3

Is 50 the New 30?

Is 50 the new 30?  I don't just hope so - I KNOW so.

I have a group of girlfriends who are very much like me.  We are all of the same generation - had the same sorts of parents and upbringing - most have children around the same ages - and we have all said, on more than one occasion, that we will NEVER have blue hair or go easily into the night.  (Well ... unless our man is leading us there - haha!)

One of my daughters works as a cashier at Home Depot.  She was telling me today that she saw this woman walking down one of the aisles.  My daughter said she was wearing shorts, a top tied up that showed her mid-drift and a belly ring in her navel.  I asked how old the woman was and my daughter said, "She was about your age and she should NOT have been wearing that outfit and looking like that."  Now ... my daughter is quite use to me dressing flamboyantly and sexy and skimpy at times, so she is not unaccustomed to seeing a woman my age that pushes the fashion boundaries - haha!  So, when I had the image in my mind of this "older" woman dressed as my daughter had described, I had to wonder how out of place she had to have looked to have caught my daughter's attention. 

It is not all about the clothes and appearance, but that is a large part of how women my age are trying, and outright, defying our age.  We are, not only, more health conscious and fit and living in a time where we have the ability to defy our ages with creams and lotions and hair coloring and such stuff ... we are also defying the standards that society has, in the past, tried to set on us, with regard to the clothes we should be wearing or not be wearing, the lengths and styles of our hair, the manner in which we conduct ourselves in our surroundings.

I go out dancing a lot these days.  With my husband.  With my girlfriends.  Even with my daughters and their friends.  I can't even begin to tell you how many times I have been out and have met and talked to young people standing near the dance floor who were fearful of dancing.  I have encouraged them many, many times - tons of kids - telling them that life is too short to be afraid of this thing that can bring you so much joy and pleasure - that they just need to get out there and not worry about what people think and ... DANCE!  

This is who we are - those of us that fall comfortably into this category of "rebels" (and there are tons of us) that are the "50s that are the new 30".  We are simply living the lives we want - regardless of pretentious boundaries or bizarre expectations.  And ... we want that joy of life that we feel, to not only show in the clothes we wear and things we do and places we go and how we look and in all that we accomplish, but also to possibly rub off on others and to be accepted, even if we appear to be out of place or defiant.  

I believe we are paving a way - setting new standards - not just starlets in Hollywood, but the women like me in your local grocery stores and neighborhoods - paving a way for at least a portion of the present and future population of like-minded women.  Paving the way for a new way to feel, to dress, to express ourselves, to believe, to be.  It might not be a majority, now, or ever, but we are particular and memorable and smart and beautiful and progressive and unique and ... leaving our happy little footprints in the aisles of Home Depot and all over dance floors everywhere.

I hope there are young girls that see me and think, "That will be me someday," and mean it in a good way ... :)

The Sweet Game

Men have always used terms of endearments with women - doll, baby, babe, sugar, hon, sweetheart, etc.  I know of some women that find these terms degrading or offensive.  I am not one of those women.

Growing up, as a young girl in my early teens in Virginia, I can remember finding any and every reason to be near, around and with the boys of our neighborhood.  My girlfriends and I would search them out - in their tree-fort in the woods, in someones back yard, in someones basement.  It might have taken us hours, but we'd almost always find them - 3 girls searching for that group of 4 wandering boys.  Often, they'd include us in their football game or a game of flashlight tag or kick-the-can.  Sometimes there were games of Spin-the-Bottle or Truth-or-Dare.  While I could hold my own in baseball or football - truthfully, my real goal was always the kissing games.

I was one of those girls that liked boys.  I really liked them - all day, every day, more than school or television or food or anything.  And ... boys liked me.  And ... it was not because I was the "foxiest" girl in the neighborhood or the easiest (by far - haha!) - it was because, I think, they were acutely aware that I admired and loved their gender.   And, while my admiration was genuine, when I, somewhere along the way, realized that feeding their egos gained me a hell of a lot of points with boys, I realized that this was a huge part of how to play the game between girls and boys.  Make them feel special because they are special - it wasn't/isn't so hard at all.

From an early age I think I learned (like many girls/women) that boys/men like/love women that like/love them - and also appreciate a girl/woman that is confident and secure in her own gender.  Part of what I so admire about men is their obsessive admiration and love of women.  If you get that, and appreciate it for how genuine, necessary and appealing a trait it is (and sexy) - then the relationship(s) you create/maintain with men are particular and strong.  I truly believe this.  Men want and need to feel masculine and manly and strong and important and handsome and smart and sexy  ... it is not an unreasonable desire, as they ARE all of these things.  And ... it is the duty, in my opinion  of women, to help make men feel all of these things - as, what would and should make them feel all these things more than women?  In return, men make women feel feminine and beautiful and smart and desired and needed and wanted and cherished.   Hand in hand - that is how it should work - the dance between men and women.

Hence ... the terms of endearment.  Doll.  Baby.  Sugar.  Hon.  Sweetheart.  Men offer such names - those sweet terms, as a way to display their love, as a way to lure women, as a way to show reverence for the gender they adore and admire and require to survive and thrive.   Like any term, these sweet words can be used in a derogatory way but ... it is my belief that a woman should (most often) not be offended, but flattered and touched when a man takes the time and is so inclined to call her by one of these names.

The other night I went out dancing in a black and white striped dress.  It was a long dress, tight fitting, low neckline, very pretty and feminine, I thought.  On my way to the bathroom, at one point, a group of men standing nearby said, "There she is - the zebra."  I laughed and smiled and went on my way.  I was not offended - even though I know I am not a zebra, nor do I believe I looked like a true zebra.  What I did was take it as a compliment that they had noticed my dress at all and took the time to make a comment.  Zebras are not elephants or skunks or hippos or lizards.  Zebras are beautiful and graceful and special.  So ... it was sort of a term of endearment.  This is the same reason I do not take offense to the terms sugar or hon or sweetheart.  I am just pleased to be called anything sweet - because what it says is that person believes I am that sweet name or hopes that by using that sweet name I will find them sweet.

There is not a thing wrong with ... sweet.

Or zebras - for that matter - haha!

Lady Maintenance

I spend a fair amount of time on ... lady maintenance.  Nails.  Toes.  Hair.  Skin. Waxing, shaving, plucking, primping, exfoliating, spraying, curling, straightening, polishing, softening, conditioning ... it's sort of exhausting, at times, but well worth the effort to me. 

Why do I spend time doing all of these tedious, time consuming beauty procedures - day after day, week after week, year after year - aside from the fact that I certainly inherited the "primping" gene from my mother and her 4 sisters and my grandmother?  Well ... I do it because it makes me feel good, first and foremost.  It makes me feel good about how I look and feel about myself, and it makes me feel good about how people perceive me.

Now ... all that said, I heard something recently.  It has to do with the appearance and maintenance of a particular area of the female body.  I heard that ... hair is coming back "in style".  Yes, hair - down there ----->

I was at a girlfriend's garage sale not long ago where I came across a box of old Playboy magazines a friend of hers had brought over to sell.  I picked one up and flipped it open.   The first thing that caught my eye was all the girls had an abundance of hair ... down there ------>.  It seemed so odd to me, as it seems to me that it has been many years that so many women have been seriously grooming and eliminating that hair, and it just seemed odd to see ALL the girls so "natural".

There are so many trends that come about - in fashion and such - that sometimes take me months to accept (if ever), and this is one of those Hollywood-inspired trends I am not likely going to accept anytime soon - if it, in fact, becomes the new thing.

Nope - I will still be mowing my lawn, regardless of what the rest of the girls do with theirs :)