First off, Mom, stop reading. If you read it anyway, pretend you didn’t please.
So over these last months, I’ve been doing a lot of reflecting and pondering and just plain exploring my mind and whatever happens to pop in. I had been looking at some art online for inspiration and came upon some beautiful pieces of art that sparked a memory, well, less of a memory and more the remnants of a feeling long ago forgotten.
I came upon some nudes of women: curvy, colorful, serene, bold and sensual. I kept looking at them, realizing more and more that I wanted to see myself reflected in those moods and models. You see, for years, I have been a caregiver, a maid, a secretary, a chef, and a chauffeur. I was anything but a woman, let alone a woman who wants to celebrate her curves and sexuality and simple beauty. I would like to think that I’m more than all of those roles.
I am a woman who wants to feel bold in her skin, tender, and even sexy. I want my husband to be all over me, not because it’s been awhile, but because he can tell that I want him to be. I want to be at peace with myself and have it show in the way I carry myself.
More than anything, I want to enjoy being a woman, feeling alive and electric and satisfied and whole. I had forgotten that part of myself. I think I’m finding my way back, and it feels wonderful.