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!