I bought dresses and new makeup. I got my hair cut and read fashion blogs. I got excited when I learned I’d be working in the “GQ” department of my office. I started cooking healthily again and working out in the mornings.
And the thing was, I started to feel kind of guilty about how pretty I felt. Every time someone complimented me on my dress or how I’d done my hair or my eyes (something I can take absolutely no credit for), I felt a little ashamed. Like maybe I should be back on the field, covered in dirt and not showering for days at a time. Like maybe I shouldn’t be enjoying my steaming hot shower because someone in the world didn’t have water at all. Like if I was the only one in the office wearing a skirt, I was somehow seemingly competing with my coworkers for the “Fashionista of the Year” award.
None of this was true, of course, but yesterday, it made me stop and think about why I was feeling so attacked in this area of beauty.
What I came to was this:
Maybe the enemy doesn’t want me to feel beautiful because he knows that my beauty is powerful.
The truth of the matter is I feel better when I take some time to get ready in the morning. I like-no, LOVE-coming to work in a cute dress and boots. I feel more capable and ready for the challenge my work presents me. There’s power in that. By taking the time to do things that make me feel beautiful, I can systematically take away a primary weapon the enemy has against me.
Who knew that painting my nails could double as soul care?
I adore my black mascara and the way my hair smells when I work some Aveda oil into it. I love to get dressed up. I like doing squats until my quads scream and feeling the burn in a long plank because I love the results my spirit is seeing: confidence.
I’m okay with being a fully feminine woman. In fact, I’m more than okay with it. I’m celebrating it.
A Toast to sparkly holiday dresses and dark nail polish. To high heels and turquoise rings and lace, lots of lace. To working out at too-early hours and hot, hot showers and blow dryers. To the men telling me I’m channeling TSwift and that they like it. To one day owning a piece of couture and wearing it to some real life grown up ball. To feeling like a woman, instead of a little girl dressing up in a hoop skirt. To confidence. Definitely, to confidence.