The Woman in the Mirror, Part 3

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Author’s Note: If you do not want to think of me in any other context than my sweet, mild side, you may not want to read this. Fair warning!

The woman who stares back out from my mirror, I have seen several sides of her. I have seen her soft and wise and feminine. I have seen her coy and coquettish. But, tonight, I saw a different side of her, one that I really like but don’t see as often anymore. As such, I am always struck when I do see it.

The woman who stared back at me in the bathroom window was raw and comely, absolute blood-pumping sex appeal. Goals and all of that set aside, she loves her body, loves to take care of it, sees herself as beautiful, desirable, and rather revels in it. I was taken aback a bit at the glance she gave me. That smirk pursed and curled her lips as she shook out her hair after settling the form-fitting black tank top over her torso, the fabric clinging in all the right places. It was almost as if she was daring me:

Say it. You know you want to. And it’s true besides.

What? That you’re hot and totally full of rawr (and other words that I probably won’t write down but definitely list off in my head and leave to others’ imaginations)?

 Yes. Yes, you are.

She just kept on smiling, even blowing me a kiss as she pulled on my favorite top, the black lace panels sitting cunningly off her shoulders. My shoulders?

Yes. You are.

Yes. I am.

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Turning the Page

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As 2015 prepares to haul on its cloak and make its exit, I cannot help but throw my mind back over what has made my life important this year. Not just the wifely things or the mommy things, but what has been important to me, Mel, as a person.

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Artist Spotlight: Cassandra Calin

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I love this young woman’s adorable comics and sketches! They just made me giggle and squee all over the place. Be sure to check out her Disney Girls with Curls series.

Check her out at: http://c-cassandra.tumblr.com/

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For the Love of the New Year

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This morning, as I yet lay in bed, I read my incourage devotional for the day with bleary morning eyes, and it struck me.

The devotional talked about rejecting the do-more-be-more nature of New Year’s resolutions and embracing the gift of a new, fresh year by choosing one word to carry through the year. One word to focus us as we go through the days, weeks, months. The writer’s pick is joy. I think my pick(s) for this past year were happiness and kindness. So I am asking God to give me my word for this year. I am feeling a heart-tug towards grace but I shall keep praying for clearness and clarity on it as the year draws to an end.

I have also begun reading Jen Hatmaker’s For the Love and the very first section talks about balancing my beam–rejecting the idea that I have to be good at everything, say yes to everyone. I want God to help me balance my beam, to make the cuts in expectation so that I can be as effective for Him, in my life purpose, and in love as possible.

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An Invitation

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My Dear Readers and Friends,

Today, as Christmas Eve dawns and grows, if you are finding yourself overwhelmed (or underwhelmed) by all that needs to be done/accomplished/achieved/experienced in this holiday season, I have a personal invitation for you.

Stop. Right here. Right now. Take a deep, full breath, and type “Me” in the comments. 

Here’s why: I would be more than happy to share a pick-me-up, word of encouragement, give you a virtual hug, a prayer, or just let you know: “Me, too”. I will not promise that it will fix everything but that is not my goal. My goal is simple: for you to know that you are not alone, my friend. Never alone.

Love and lots of hugs,

Mel

A Dragon Sky

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Olaf would say that the sky is awake, and so it is. As I stepped outside to toss the trash into the hopper, I found myself struck and just staring upward. The moon is almost full–round and bright and beautiful–the air is crisp and lovely, and the clouds are racing over the sky, backlit in moonlight blue. The only description that came to mind was “dragon sky”. Like dragons, the epitome of air elemental, racing through the night air or their breath so hot billowing before or after them in a great exhale that mists the blue-black velvet above.

I just wanted to lie on the hood of the car and watch the sky, fall asleep to the cloudy symphony above. But then my family would worry and I would surely catch my death on the cold hood of a dew-covered car. So I shall settle for writing it down and calling it up in my mind’s eye for a smile as the night goes on.

On Chocolate-Covered Cherries

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They look like cunning little mice, like runaways from their pecan-eared cousins at the Night Circus, their heads ducks to hide their cheeky, little, whiskered grins. Meanwhile, this leaves their cherry-stem tails to flirt in the air as they curl themselves down into round little chocolate balls, tucked and huddled together. I can just imagine them fast asleep, snoring away, having gotten bored with the human who have yet to decipher their delicious little secret. Aren’t they just adorable? Delicious? Adorably delicious? Yes, and.

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My Body’s Favor

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It is so rare that I am inspired by my own body, but it is so fabulous when I am. A year ago, I posted about losing my “glorious”, how the comments of strangers made me feel small and objectified, very much not-cute, and definitely not glorious.

Today was on the other end. After a long hot shower that went a long way to helping me feel human again, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I rubbed muscles sore from exercise and tension. I have caught glimpses of myself before, naturally, but the woman who looked back from the looking glass today was slightly different. I have seen her refined and elegant, graceful and soft. But this one: she was…sultry, sharp in a way. The way she tilted her head was coy, coquettish, and I felt like she would soon be giving me a sly noir smile from behind reddened lips and under smoky lids. She looked like a woman who would walk along as if the world was her oyster, opened for her discovery and pleasure. I loved looking at her (me) and found myself starting to revel more in myself as I rubbed the lotion into my skin, inhaling the scents of chamomile and bergamot that soaked into me as I massaged my muscles and paid attention to my areas of tension. It was, altogether, the most peaceful moment of my day.

Then, tonight, as I changed into my pajamas after an evening of family and birthday presents, I had a moment where I looked down and was struck at the sight of my black stockings against my dark skin, turned into thigh-highs for a moment as I divested myself of them. I just paused and smiled, as I am a person with a deep affection for thigh-high stockings and socks and their adorably cunning coquetry. It really just made me smile and muse on lovely legs in equally lovely stockings and socks.

Altogether, today, my body has done me a great service in not only surviving while short of sleep and getting me from place to place but also in giving me moments of feeling absolutely beautiful (even stunning) while doing so.

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Musings on a Third Birthday

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Today, my daughter turns three, I am running on 5 hours of mostly-full-though-still-broken sleep,  and her gifts were  JUST wrapped a few minutes ago by her Mamaw while I kept her distracted in the living room.

It’s been a nice build up to Bizzy’s birthday. This week, as we have been out and about, she has been spreading sunshine around to others: waving, smiling, saying “Hi, everyone!”, and wishing people “Merry Christmas!” It’s done my heart good as I have tried to concentrate on the moments that make this season wonderful and not let myself be trapped by the expectation, comparisons, and stuff that made me regret it all at the end of last year. Fewer presents and more meaning. Less doing and more being. Fewer obligations and more space for magical moments and divine appointments.

Today, there will be no huge birthday party, no me running around to pick up party platters, birthday cake, and decorate a party space, no leaving my mom to mind and dress and prepare Elizabeth for said party while I go hither, thither, and yon. No running around desperately trying to be a good hostess as well as an attentive Mommy. No cleaning up afterward, trying to figure out where all the leftovers and cake are going to fit in the fridge, especially with Christmas Day foodings in 6 days. Nope!

All of that that is #offthebeam this year (thank you, Jen Hatmaker). As fun as it might have been for Bizzy last year, it was so much stress for me that I was a wreck by the end of the day and I didn’t get to enjoy my daughter’s birthday really at all. This year, we are going back to basic and easy: a relaxed day (that hopefully involves a nap or two for me), a family dinner out at a Chinese buffet that she really likes, presents, and a small cupcake (with a Christmas tree in frosting) for my girl to indulge in.

My little girl is three years old. I am running on five hours’ sleep, and I am so very pleased and proud to be the mother of this wonderful, fabulous, maddening, fierce, spiky, friendly, smart, lovely little person.

 

The Power of Permission | Scribbles

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I know that this piece was written with grief over a loved one’s death in mind, but I feel like it’s so poignant to many other situations of pain. I know that some of you, my dear ones, are hurting this holiday season or healing from the pains of this year, so I wanted to send this sweet reminder to you. You are loved, and it’s okay.

“Take a deep breath with me, sweet friend.

I need you to hear this.

It’s okay.”

Read more via The Power of Permission | Scribbles .