A flip board fanning the corner pages illustrating an evolution
of my ever-shifting shapes and styles and colors expressing the inside me to
the outside world. The owl-like red
rimmed glasses and bleached platinum hair against a pale ivory back-drop. An unrequited love affair with the head piece
– scarf, cowboy hat, baseball cap and twill page boy through my boyish
stage. Crimped blunt edged bangs, masses
of unruly curls, and a red and chocolate brown phase just because. Tees with war cries and feminist rights emblazoned
across the chest. Slumming in the local
community junior team hockey jersey when Dad was head coach.
All me. No apologies
no regrets. And still today I find
pleasure through creative expression. My
small Celtic trinity tattoo across my wrist bone and more recent dabble of
dazzle on the ridge of my left nostril – my first nose piercing. I am not out to cause a stir or initiate an
article in GOOP magazine on what is appropriate for trend-setting
forty-somethings. Age has no
meaning. We are defined inside and
continue to grow and develop with every experience. Freedom of expression should be free of
judgement and scorn. My hair colour
still comes from a bottle and I have multiple affairs with temporary rainbow
shades. Passionate for purple and pink
hues just for fun why not. Stuff that
age-appropriate protocol in your granny panties I prefer commando.
I live to dance. I
love to laugh. I am loud and think my
sense of humor is the greatest. I spend
hundreds of words to tell a story properly – concise is not my friend. But what does come with age and what I believe
to be the most valuable lesson I have learned is to be comfortable in your own
skin. Own who you are – screw conformity. Be confident in being you. Live unapologetically. This is me.
I have an amazing group of family and friends who love me and truly like
me for me. And for me – nothing less
will do!
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