So it's back....not really "new and improved" since that usually (in my opinion) implies a change that inevitably effs up the thing that I once loved. It's just back.
Last year, about this same time, life was changing and... not complicated... just... not my life... but still kind of .... I don't expect that to make sense. I don't know that it made a lot of sense to me. I knew that QuirkyGirlx3 didn't really fit anymore, so I tried to create a new space to write that new chapter. It felt foreign. It felt like I was writing in someone else's space...which to a degree is kind of where my life was. In someone else's space.
I only just today realized what had actually happened. I had cocooned myself. I was insulating my heart trying to let wounds heal. I was securing myself to get a solid footing again. I squirreled away the joyous things and held them close so that only a few got to share them. It wasn't to exclude but I think to protect the sweet spot. I wrapped myself up in the warmness of the chrysalis I wasn't even aware I was spinning.
A week ago Sunday, Brandon and I were finally married in a ceremony that was lovely and perfect and represented us well. We drifted away for a weeks long honeymoon of a no destination road trip. When we got home, I made an appointment and immediately chopped about 9 inches of hair off. Here's the thing. Even before I started doing hair, I've always maintained that there is a complete psychology to hair. When a woman wants her life to change she'll change her hair, or if her life has already changed she'll want the outward manifestation so she'll change her hair. Then I ghettoed up ma nails in some Halloween fun-ness. I felt spunky and light. So on the last night of our honeymoon, with my new do and trashy tips, my husband took me to dinner.
The girls came bursting through the door at my dad's when we went to pick them up Sunday afternoon. They were all smiles and laughter. Emma said, "Oh you look like Mommy from when I was little!" (My hair was always short until about 3 years ago...bit of a female Sampson softening thing) On the way home we were all talking over the top of each other and telling stories and being .... us! Mid-conversation I interjected (we're a family of interrupters. We try to change it, but it never seems to stick) by shoving my glow-in the dark green nails with black tips at Em and saying, "Whattaya think about ma nails?!" Her response? "I think that my mom's home." I've sat in this statement for a few days. I realize that I am.
With it came the urge to write again. My fingers have been twitchy. I tried to return to Walking Out Loud but I chaffed at the site (pun intended) of it. I considered a new one...Mishaps and Misadventures with QuirkyGirl....but that wasn't it...that's the stuff I write about not the title. I am my own title. Like Cher. Or Bono.
Making a cup of tea this very morning and the uncluttering the files in my mind, I had the mental awakening that comes with the emergence of a renewed self. I've hatched. Bloomed. Entered gracefully into a new era in life. It only made sense to revamp QuirkyGirlx3. It's who I am. It's my home. I only know how to walk out loud. I don't need to do it under a banner that proclaims such. I just have to do it.
QuirkyGirlx3 is now QuirkyGirlx3+1
Same old address. Same old lot of things. The good stuff anyway. I hope I've left the ugliness with the discarded shell. This girl is ready to fly....ironically it was Learning to Fly that was the title of the 1st post on the original site. I love it when life works in perfect circles and brings you back around.
Welcome to our life.
