Glow by Lady E

  I used to choose things because they’re pretty or affordable, but I end up hurt.  Like two brands of slippers that shall not be named.  Now I choose things that are kind to my body. Soft, supportive, gentle.  Especially after my foot ached for better.  I think I’m learning to apply that standard to more things. Pretty is lovely. Fun is lovely. And I will probably always be drawn to something that sparkles. But I don’t think beauty should require me to tolerate discomfort just to keep it around. That applies to something as small as a pair of slippers. Or a hairbrush. This new brush is still glittery. Still pretty. Still something that makes me smile when I see it sitting with my things. But it also feels good. The bristles glide through my hair without scratching my scalp or catching strands between broken tips. It does what a hairbrush is supposed to do without asking me to endure something first. And maybe that’s one of the quieter forms of self-respect. Not...

  I kept it because it was pretty.  Even when it started to hurt.  Even if it was already looking nasty.  No matter how hard I tried to clean it, some of the dirt just wouldn’t budge anymore.,  And the bristles.  A lot of them have lost their bristle tips.  And it hurt when I brushed.  And the empty tips were also pulling my hair.  But still, I kept it. Because it was pretty. Because it was glittery. Because technically, it still worked. And maybe because throwing something away when it can still be used has always felt a little wasteful to me. So I kept brushing my hair with it. And kept getting annoyed when it pulled. Kept wincing when one of those exposed bristles scratched my scalp. Until one day I thought: Why am I doing this? It’s a hairbrush. It’s supposed to make something as ordinary as brushing my hair feel good. And this one didn’t anymore. That thought felt strangely bigger than the brush in my hand. Because how many things do we ...

There’s confidence that’s loud.  Confidence that you can spot right away in a crowded room. Confidence that screams even from miles away.  And then there’s quiet confidence.  Confidence that doesn’t need to perform.  It simply exists.  I have learned the first type of confidence through years of training in declamation and oration.  But the second type?  That came slowly.  Even now I’m still learning it.  Still trying to be comfortable in it.  Soft confidence is buying flowers for yourself. No occasion.  Just because you know you deserve flowers that day.  It’s being able to arrange those flowers however you want to when you get home. It’s buying that pretty notebook. And actually using it.  Not saving it for a special event.  Not waiting until something worthy happens to be written.  Or finally using the pretty stickers with the confidence that more will come… It’s reading alone in a cafe.  And being comple...

  How many women wait until they’re thinner, richer, prettier, or more successful before allowing themselves to enjoy life? I was one of those women.  I’ll wait ‘til I buy this for my son before treating myself.  I’ll wait to finish all the orders before I rest.  I’ll wait until my face clears up before I wear a blush.  This journey is teaching me a lot of things.  And one of those things is that I don’t need to earn delight.  I stopped auditioning the day I realized life wasn’t a panel of judges. No one was holding up scorecards. The only person waiting for me… was me. And that was a big revelation to me.  It was like one of those moments where you go, “why didn’t I think of that sooner” Yeah.. Why didn’t I think of that sooner? I was programmed through circumstances over the years to put myself last.  I guess there’s also that part of society that tells you to think of others first.  I grew up that way.  Serve others first.  ...