I haven’t felt fabulous in a very long time.
I realized that when a dear soul recently told me I will always be fabulous. And I doubted those words.
I do remember feeling fabulous. You know that feeling when you’re wearing the right clothes and you’re with the right people and you’re saying the right things and it’s a sweet spot and it’s just all coming together?
Sometimes I miss feeling fabulous. I wonder if I will ever feel that way again, or if the fabulous quotient diminishes after 42.
I feel other things – needed, loved, mature, wise, valued. But fabulous? Not so much anymore.
And part of my woman’s soul, if I’m totally honest, would love to feel fabulous again. Like I felt when I was 37. That was a good year for me.
But another part of me doesn’t care as much about being fabulous as I used to. Maybe because I see how fabulous the people around me are and I want the world to see their fabulousness more clearly. Maybe helping others shine in fabulousness is more important to me now. Maybe I’m getting over myself a little bit.
And maybe I’m still fabulous and I’m just not aware of it because I have other priorities now. Yes, that would be nice. Maybe that’s what I’ll choose to believe.