So pretty to cause a ruckus…

Something pretty?I splurged tonight on some jewellery. Okay, when I say splurged, I’m not talking much money. Some cheap bangles and big huge hoop earrings. When did they come back into fashion?! I used to love big hoops and bangles, lots of bangles. There’s something almost hypnotic about the sound of bangles clinking together as I move around and the way the light glimmers.

I’d been waiting for a friend to phone and as I sat in my car talking to her I couldn’t help touching and staring at my new purchases. Something felt different about them, about buying them. I was smiling inside, but it felt different. I’ve bought jewellery before. I enjoy buying pretty things. It’s not a happy making thing, it’s something pretty. I was smiling inside and I couldn’t work out why it felt different.

Unable to resist temptation I slid the bangles on, enjoying the way the textured surfaces caught the light, the sound they made against each other and finally slipped the hoops into my ears… in the dark, with a phone against one ear and unable to reach the mirror. Even with so many years having passed, I managed a hole in one with each ear.

Now I could reach the mirror and I took a look at myself for the first time in so many years with earrings on. Not just any earrings… these are the biggest hoops I’ve ever had the pleasure to own.

Sooooo Pretty!

That’s when I understood. I may have been buying jewellery, but this was the first time in almost 20 years that I bought something pretty, for me, because I thought they’d look pretty on me.

My mind scrambled, as you’d probably guess it would and I began a conversation with myself…

That little necklace with the jade bits was pretty, so why did I buy that last year? It was pretty, but you never wore it, did you?

Oh. But… Hmmm?

I wore that other one, the one with the little bronze roses! Do you even realise how bohemian your taste is sounding?! Anyway, you did wear it… once. Did it feel pretty on you?

*silence* I don’t remember. Exactly.

Admittedly, slight artistic license taken, but that pretty much covers it. I used to wear pretty things because I believed those things would look pretty on me. Then I stopped because I believed they didn’t look pretty on me. Like I wasn’t a good enough canvas to display these little works of art I found so pretty. Kind of sad really to think how low my self-esteem was. Although the upside is that I didn’t realise this little detail until now, once it shifted again.

Remember my meditation the other night and integrating? the woman I was becoming before my son’s father? Yeah, that woman wore pretty things because she thought they looked pretty on her. So, along with those feelings and memories I already described, my mystery seems to have given me a kick in the old self-esteem department. Mega cool.

Anyway, it doesn’t end there. Call with friend ends as we head off to our respective dinners. I went to open the car door to go buy mine. I know, I know, more splurging. Couldn’t leave the car. Argh! Now what?! I had such a sick, anxious feeling in the pit of my stomach. Fear, so much fear. Breathing begins to race, eyes dart looking for a way out of this predicament, what ever this predicament actually is.

Slow, steady breathing. In. Out. Calm the chatter. Relax. Breath. Breath. Better.

Having realised that I bought and was now wearing something I thought would look pretty on me, I was terrified of being on display. Ugh *rolls eyes* Okay, to the feelings, memories and kick to the self-esteem, let’s just add the healing that needs to take place. The healing that never took place back then. I understand what the base fear is that I was feeling, which I’ll leave for another post.

A manual would be good folks. Really good. Seriously, this stumbling around in the dark with this stuff is irritating as all crap!

Oh, and yes, I did eventually go in and buy dinner. Such a ruckus over some earrings. Even if they are the sexiest silver hoops I’ve ever owned *nods head*


Image credit: © Papuga2006 |


3 thoughts on “So pretty to cause a ruckus…

  1. Pingback: Fear and learning from the past | Randomly Mari

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