I remember myself in my early twenties.
In many ways I was a hot beautiful mess.
I mean aren’t we all in our early twenties??
It’s a time where life thrusts you into adulthood with very little tools on how to actually BE a conscious, secure, capable, confident human.
It took me most of my twenties and half of my thirties to figure that shit out. And if you think at 39 I’m finished, I’m certainly not.
While I’ve definitely gotten a lot more grounded and secure and have a much more satisfying sense of myself, I still have plenty of work to do.
Take today for instance. Today I was feeling blehk. I wasn’t feeling sexy.
This is something that didn’t plague me that much in my twenties. I got a LOT of attention. Still I was VERY insecure. Because confidence isn’t about other people telling you you’re awesome, hot, smart, whatever. Confidence is an inner game.
But today didn’t feel like insecure so much. It just felt like blehk.
Not that I MUST feel sexy on a random Tuesday afternoon. But I haven’t been feeling sexy for the past few weeks.
This happens for me when the weather changes.
My tan has faded leaving pasty skin.
The weather’s cooled and bulky winter coats have replaced sleek and stylish leather jackets, leaving me feeling poofy and constricted.
My hair is shorter than I would like, which is my own fault because I waited 7 months for a cut and it was so unhealthy it needed to go.
And my body is different. I’ve been working out with a lot of weights lately and as a result I weigh the most I’ve ever weighed. It’s totally muscle because of all the weights I’ve been lifting (which I love by the way) but still it’s fucking with my head.
So I sat with this. All of this. I sat in inquiry of how I can accept that I feel this way. Because to deny it just feels counter intuitive. It’s already happening.
But to go overboard trying to change it also feels misaligned.
So instead I popped on my newish jean shorts that barely fit at the moment and my favorite suspenders and I took some pics.
In other words, I embraced it. My body. My feelings. My blehkness. All of it.
Because to sink into that shit just isn’t my style. But I also want to feel it. Want to be real about it.
Even though there is a piece of me that doesn’t feel super hot right now, I’m actually ok with that. Because sexy isn’t a state of body. It’s a state of mind.
And yes, suspenders. I find them incredibly sexy. I think part of it is the fact that they aren’t really a symbol of sex appeal. They just make ME feel sexy.
We need to find our own version of sexy. And own it. Otherwise it’s not authentic.
And I’ve been there. Trying to create a version of myself so others will find me attractive. It gets old fast. It’s boring. Because it’s not true.
Truth is sexy. Being real is sexy. Being you is sexy.
As I get older my body is changing but that doesn’t mean my relationship to my sexiness or my sexuality needs to.
I simply need to keep letting go of any strict ideas I may have of what that needs to look like because surely it will continue to change.
Each year I hope to redefine my own version of sexiness, to meet myself where I am and to love myself fiercely.
PS For the full pic check out my Instagram account.