Somewhere in the avalanche of my life it’s here. Maybe I lost it in the piles of practical shoes in the bottom of my closet. Maybe I left it at the security checkpoint in the airport, or the self-checkout line at Winn Dixie. Perhaps I dropped it as I ran to catch my two year old boy, or maybe it fell out the window as my car whipped around the corner just in time to get my nine year old to school. It could be under the papers on my desk, or maybe I forgot to save it on my computer. It’s probably beneath that baby weight I still haven’t lost, or lying beneath the mountain of ideas and thoughts labeled “save for later” that I keep in the back of my mind.
It’s my femininity. My mystique. My girly, giggly, high-heel-shoe-loving, red-nail-polish-painting, hot-tea-and-honey-drinking femininity. The part of me that sleeps in lace and shaves her legs every day. That little itch to go shopping, try on clothes at leisure, make cupcakes and light candles.
I’m not sure exactly when or where, but at some point I let my femininity slide to the back burner. It’s always there, mind you. I’m not saying I’ve been less feminine. I guess I’ve just been allowing my femininity to manifest itself in a different, less desirable way. More fussing than flirting. More lamenting than laughing. More stress than sweetness. More stomp than sashay.
Aw, sure I have plenty of reasons why. Plenty of excuses about time crunches, weariness, stress, money worries, and crazy schedules. But all that never seems to go away. There’s really no reason I should stop enjoying the gift of being a woman. It may mean making time for the fru-fru, or stopping to smell the roses—literally. But whatever it takes, there must be some prettiness preserved, some girly-ness glorified in my day to day existence.
It’s odd, I let the fun part of femininity fall by the wayside during times of overload and stress, but that fun femininity may be the very thing that relieves or at least makes the chaos more enjoyable! Really, what stress can’t be lessened by a bubble bath or a pedicure (or both)? If I must rush out the door, wouldn’t I rather do so in a cute pair of shoes? Is there any outlook that isn’t improved by the right lip gloss or a spritz of my favorite scent? Why not write my to-do list in pink ink? Why can’t the practical be enhanced by the pretty, the everyday be shrouded in just a bit of mystique? Why not trim the trials in a little lace?
God made me a female and I’m glad He did. I just sometimes let the pressures crowd out the pleasures when it comes to being a woman. So this is a reminder for me, and any others out there who may need to recall the fact that being a girl is glorious, femininity is fabulous, womanhood wonderful. My femininity isn’t exactly something that can be forgotten. But it can be flattened a little if I let it.
And I don’t want that. I want the sugar and spice, swirl-around skirts, patent leather pumps, and polka dotted purses. I’m glad I know what cucumber water is, and how to keep mascara from clumping. I’m glad I can be sincerely grateful to God for gel nail polish and purse-sized hand sanitizer. So bring it on, crazy life! I’ve got laughter and love, lotion and lipstick. I’m female, and THAT is FUN!!