The Dress

 

A very long time ago, I owned a dress, the dress.  It was the most amazing dress I ever owned or wore.  It was red and full of fire.  It was a dress meant for dancing and laughing and living.  Every time I wore it, I felt beautiful and amazing.  If you’ve ever heard the song “Lady in Red,” it was like that.  It wasn’t that I felt I was the most beautiful woman in the room, but that I was worth noticing.

Clothes often reflect or affect our moods.  If I’m feeling lazy or depressed, you’ll often see it in how I dress.  This doesn’t necessarily mean jeans and t-shirt, but if you look, you’ll know.  Boots make me feel sassy. My purple work shoes are my rebellion. And jewelry, well, that’s my happy place of clothing, where I feel most free to express myself and particular brand of life on any given day.  A sure sign it’s not a good day is a lack of jewelry. On the other hand, it’s hard for me to get motivated while in my pajamas.  Old baggie, worn down, frumpy clothes pull me down.

So back to the dress. I don’t know when the dress disappeared exactly, but I do know that about the same time, I lost the last part of the “real” me.  The me who loved to dance, who was just a little flirtatious, who ran all over and thought nothing of exploring the world.  I can count the number of times I’ve danced since then on less than half a hand.  I’m more reserved, yes, reserved.  Not a word that would have ever been used to describe me.  I danced everywhere, not well, but I didn’t care. I did things because they were fun and full of life.  They weren’t always smart but they weren’t always dumb either.  I did manage to embarrass myself a lot, but I also laughed at myself.  It's not to say I was reckless; I just took life on full force.  Good things sometimes came out of that way of living, a lot gets done when you don’t hesitate.

The first reaction might be, well, you grew up.  No, growing up happens gradually.  You don’t lose the things that give you joy.  Rough edges are tempered, but you are still you.  Things can happen that change that process.  The question becomes, what do you do about it? 

The dress is long gone.  I don’t think I can completely overcome all that happened to cause the changes in me.  But I can start small, just find a beat, and dance.