“What’s your favorite color”? The answer to that question almost always comes after a long pause of hesitation.
Over the years, I’ve had short stints of infatuations with an assortment of hues. My sophomore year of high school I really had a thing for red. I once discovered that pink looked great against my skin tone. Every season I found a new love. How could I choose just one? But, then, before I knew it, I had fallen….hard. I was gunning for all things lavender, mauve and plum. I’m the kind of gal who enjoys variety. With that said, I was quite proud of myself for finally settling on one color.
However, I was spiraling out of control. I had to be stopped. I hate to call it an obsession – I knew a woman who had gone as far as repainting the exterior of her car blue-violet (heavy on the violet) and never missed a day without wearing periwinkle, thistle or grape – but, I was on my way there.
Family members took notice of my new found love and made remarks about me becoming the crazy purple lady. The jokes kept rolling and I gradually grew self-conscious and aware of the stigma that came along with the dreaded "p" word. I was forced to take note of the behavior of those whom shared my love. I discovered they had, shall we say, unique personalities. Don’t get me wrong. I’m all for unique. You can even call me pro-unique. I sometimes like to think of myself as unique. But, let’s be honest. Some of these folks put the “CRAY” in crazy. I then started questioning everything I stood for and most importantly, my very own sanity.
How could I let this happen? How could I be so blind? Am I now the crazy purple lady? Although my instinct was to do the opposite, I ended up avoiding the color. Yes, every single shade. How could I have given up so easily? Did I give into the social pressures that were heavily put upon me? What’s so bad about liking the color purple, anyway?
I needed answers. So, I did what any normal person living in the 21st century would do. I turned to google. I began my search by entering phrases such as "crazy people and purple", "crazy purple lady" and "purple people eater". To my surprise, there wasn't much information linking crazy and purple together. On one hand, a relief, but on the other, kind of a let down. I guess I wanted to justify the shame I was feeling. Really, though, it's just color after all. And if I want to dress in it from head to toe, it's my ridiculous prerogative.
What about you? Any fears about showing the world your true colors?
Tuesday, December 2, 2014
Sunday, May 18, 2014
I didn't start really wearing makeup until I was 25 years old. While growing up, I hardly ever saw my mother stray from the occasional lipstick and eyeliner. With that said, Makeup 101 was just not going to happen in my household. Consequently, it always seemed to be quite the anomaly to me and in time I grew very fearful of the stuff.
Whenever I did muster up the courage to wear it, I always stuck with my go-tos: Jet black eyeliner and an assortment of lip gloss (variations of basically the same color). Obviously, the apple didn't fall far from the tree.
And when I wanted to get crazy adventurous I opted for the eyeshadow. It was amazing to me that with the stroke of a brush I could go from drab to fab in a matter of minutes. Nothing to it. So, I thought.
One day, a genuinely concerned friend asked, "what's that on your eyes?" "Uh, just a little shadow," I responded, while anxiously planning my escape to the nearest restroom. And just when I thought I was making some headway with this whole makeup business.
It was back to the drawing board. And "draw" I did. I played around with different colors and learned how to blend. I was by no means an expert. But, mastery wasn't my goal. Like the saying goes, "Ain't nobody got time for that!" All I really wanted was to look like a woman fully capable of coloring inside the lines.
I'd like to say that I've improved over the years - and, maybe I did just a little. However, nowadays I wear scrubs to work (the best invention ever.). I don't have to put much thought into getting ready most days and the only tube you'll find me carrying is chapstick. So, now, more than ever, the idea of getting dolled up exhausts me. I'm not just talking about the makeup thing either. There seems to be so much involved in looking good day in and day out.
I give props to the women out there who never leave home without looking practically perfect. I aspired to be her and fell short. It's not like I tried all that hard anyways. Besides, the natural look is kinda in right now. I can so do that!
What about you? What are some things you've had to accept about yourself?
Monday, May 5, 2014
I "fake" laugh more than I "real" laugh. Most of us do it from time to time out of politeness, I guess. But for me, it has become a bit of a nuisance and a very very bad habit. I mean, it's kind of a catch 22. Polite if I do and rude if I don't. Call me a people pleaser if you will.
I'm directionally challenged. Yes, I admit it. I have the worst sense of direction (quite possibly known to man). I'm convinced that this is in fact a disorder. However, I have yet to come up with any solid evidence in my google searches. And without a real diagnosis, there is no known cure. In the meantime I've been receiving treatment. You might have heard of it: GPS?
I've inherited a family curse. Ok, ok. I don't believe in curses but I swear the women in my family are destined to become penny-less and single. What I'm really trying to say is: there's a perfectly reasonable explanation why I'm 32, broke and still not married.
Well there you have it folks. Three confessions. Yeah, I know, the original plan was to give you a total of 5. Now, now. Let's not get too carried away in setting that bar just yet.
Do you have something you'd like to get off your chest? What are your confessions?