"When was the last time you felt really beautiful?" my aunt asked me. She had stopped by on her way home from a business meeting, with a book on meditation mandalas, and we started talking about everything.
Me-:"That's a trick question right?" she glared at me. "Umm... It was the night I started dating -----."
Aunt-:"And? Where were you? What were you doing? What were you wearing? Why did you feel beautiful?"
Me-:"I was singing. That one karaoke place, wearing....well, I had just cut my hair short, bleached it out for the first time, had gotten down to 140 pounds, clothes...that one pair of patterned jeans and the black shirt with the vampire logo on it. Why did I feel beautiful? Um... I don't know? It was a good time in my life. I had just lost the weight, wrote that one manuscript that I really loved, was hanging out with friends having dinners every few nights...why?"
Aunt-:"And how long ago was that?"
Me-:"Like, eleven years ago. Why?"
Aunt-:"That's where you need to get back to. Why did you stop singing?"
Me-:"Can't since the car accident. My lung and ribs are too covered in scar tissue, just can't seem to get the air anymore. That and I just don't like bars. Bars are bad."
Aunt-:"Well, start small. Go get your hair done, buy a few new outfits, try singing again and if you can't do it, think of something else you love to do and just throw yourself into it." she shrugged. "Be beautiful, feel beautiful, and you'll be happy and attractive and then Mr. Right will show up."
This is pretty much common sense, but I let my aunt continue with her pep talk. Just, think I'll keep bars off the to do list.
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