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.