Laugh if you will. It's lipstick.
Of course, there are the perks like a complete set of teeth that allows me to ferociously bite down on Five Guy burgers (my first stop post Costa Rica), the ability to smile at people without sending them into cardiac arrest, the option to chomp on a apple or gum a banana—either option, okay, the prerogative to feel normal.
But it's the opportunity to pull a myriad of tubes from my makeup bag and say, "let's do this" that excites me maybe a little too much. Maybe it's the girly girl in me exploding at this point in my life when she hasn't in a really long time. Sure there's a billion other parts of me that need a little love and care, but there's something about painting a touch of color on your lips that creates a shield of insurance and power. Whether it's Chanel or Revlon, it's adds a layer of potential to what comes next. It's kind of like the same feeling that consumes me when I pick up my camera. "Ain't no stopping her now!"
Before I started this process, I concocted lots of reasons why I should just let this toothless scenario play out. After all, I'm an old woman and my time has come and gone. They are just teeth. Spending this kind of money on me is, basically, a waste. Although taking this route has saved us thousands, it has still cost us thousands—thousands that we could have spent on travel, dreams and a more comfortable tomorrow.
Then, I removed my martyr crown (as Len calls it) and I realized, I deserve this. I deserve to smile, feel good about myself, explore new worlds and conquer new dreams. If not me, then who? Who is me and this is my time. It's hard for me to say I deserve anything because my parents were not ones to tell me I deserved anything, a conclusion I have carried through life. God bless them, they were hard working and devout and what you got your earned or you did without. And then, I thought, what I do for myself now, will carry me through the rest of my life. What doors can this open? I'm already living my second chapter . . . will there be more? Be good to yourself, Judy. Be good.
We all need a push. We all deserve to be what we were meant to be, and that includes me. Embrace it. Run with it. Take Len along for the ride.
Like the many hues and tubes of lipstick in my bag, characters and roles played during my lifetime have been plenty. Some are over (she says rejoicing); some are beginning. I always have loved a good beginning.
This time next week, I'll be face-to-face with those gold shoes, looking out over the rain forest, and counting the minutes until this dental journey is done. I keep thinking about the first time I look into the mirror, envisioning what I will see. I hope to find a better me, one that will embrace the potential that has lived inside all along. She just needed a little fine-tuning.
Oh, and a tube of Chanel's Ever Red to blaze the way. 💋
Of course, there are the perks like a complete set of teeth that allows me to ferociously bite down on Five Guy burgers (my first stop post Costa Rica), the ability to smile at people without sending them into cardiac arrest, the option to chomp on a apple or gum a banana—either option, okay, the prerogative to feel normal.
But it's the opportunity to pull a myriad of tubes from my makeup bag and say, "let's do this" that excites me maybe a little too much. Maybe it's the girly girl in me exploding at this point in my life when she hasn't in a really long time. Sure there's a billion other parts of me that need a little love and care, but there's something about painting a touch of color on your lips that creates a shield of insurance and power. Whether it's Chanel or Revlon, it's adds a layer of potential to what comes next. It's kind of like the same feeling that consumes me when I pick up my camera. "Ain't no stopping her now!"
Before I started this process, I concocted lots of reasons why I should just let this toothless scenario play out. After all, I'm an old woman and my time has come and gone. They are just teeth. Spending this kind of money on me is, basically, a waste. Although taking this route has saved us thousands, it has still cost us thousands—thousands that we could have spent on travel, dreams and a more comfortable tomorrow.
Then, I removed my martyr crown (as Len calls it) and I realized, I deserve this. I deserve to smile, feel good about myself, explore new worlds and conquer new dreams. If not me, then who? Who is me and this is my time. It's hard for me to say I deserve anything because my parents were not ones to tell me I deserved anything, a conclusion I have carried through life. God bless them, they were hard working and devout and what you got your earned or you did without. And then, I thought, what I do for myself now, will carry me through the rest of my life. What doors can this open? I'm already living my second chapter . . . will there be more? Be good to yourself, Judy. Be good.
We all need a push. We all deserve to be what we were meant to be, and that includes me. Embrace it. Run with it. Take Len along for the ride.
Like the many hues and tubes of lipstick in my bag, characters and roles played during my lifetime have been plenty. Some are over (she says rejoicing); some are beginning. I always have loved a good beginning.
This time next week, I'll be face-to-face with those gold shoes, looking out over the rain forest, and counting the minutes until this dental journey is done. I keep thinking about the first time I look into the mirror, envisioning what I will see. I hope to find a better me, one that will embrace the potential that has lived inside all along. She just needed a little fine-tuning.
Oh, and a tube of Chanel's Ever Red to blaze the way. 💋
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