Saturday was the day that my stepsister got married. Unfortunately, I will never look on that day as a beautiful day for a white wedding but rather the day of a thousand stings. To me…and to my (blood) family. I won’t get in to the gory details right now because there are many conversations that still need to take place and many wounds that need to heal. I am a mature adult (sometimes) and on that day, I looked deep in to my closet and found my happy face. I wore that bytch ALL.DAY.LONG.
I took the high road.
I won’t focus on the bad of that day but rather the good. I started my preparation at 1pm getting my hair did.
After my hair appointment I stopped at a gas station. As I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the window, I laughed out loud. I truly looked like a librarian and was sure that everyone wanted to ask me which prom I’d be chaperoning that night. I am so old!
From there, I decided to swing by my dad’s house to get a xanax. You see, Thursday night at the rehearsal, I sure did trip down the aisle. Not gracefully. That’s just not me. It was full on slow motion with arms flailing about. I then made everyone do the whole thing over again so I could practice……then did no less than 7 more practice walks down the aisle. Who the hell makes a wedding walkway with uneven pavers down a small hill?!?!?!!?!!?
The xanax was an attempt to calm my nerves about walking down the aisle...in front of people….in a strapless dress. Visions of everyone seeing my nip-poleans danced in my head.
Make-up was next on my list. As many of you know, I have zero clue about applying makeup and though I try sometimes, I still manage to look like a two dollar hooker. Not a good look…for anyone.
The woman at Sephora was ABSOLUTELY amazing. I told her that I wanted my eyes to pop. She apparently heard, “I want to make a drag queen jealous”. She just kept applying…and applying…and applying. I was a little nervous but then she turned me around and all I could say was “WOW”. I know that I’m not the prettiest girl in the world but I also know that the sight of me doesn’t necessarily make people want to vomit
well, except for my ex-husband.
I fall somewhere in between.
I showed up to the bridal suite and was showered with compliments. I was the only person in the bridal party that decided to get my hair and make-up done professionally so I felt a little overdone. At first it stressed me out but then I decided that I wanted to be the best version of ME on that day.
All the months of sweat, blood and tears were realized on this day. All the times I fell. All the times I brushed myself off and stood back up. All the times I wanted to quit. All the times I JUST KEPT GOING. I’m at least 20 pounds from my goal but I didn’t dwell on that. Not that day.
This day of a thousand stings will also be the day I felt the most beautiful in my ENTIRE life. I held my head high
mostly because the bobby pins were poking me. I flexed my arms during pictures to hide my
fat arms. And when people told me that I
was stunning and beautiful, I believed them. I fully understand that many of those
compliment giving people were drinking and that some of them are “up there in
age” so their sight may have been failing them.
Regardless, when they looked at me, they didn’t see fat rolls or
cellulite or ginormous legs and arms. They saw beauty.
I FELT beauty…and it was amazing.
“I am gone with the wind fabulous. Twirl. Twirl. Twirl.” (this is a ‘Real Housewives of Atlanta’ reference. Watch it dammit!)
|Me and my dad|
|Happy 11 months, Fluffette!|