so, remember how i dedicated 'year twenty-seven' to becoming more feminine and doing girlier things on a regular basis? well, now i'm twenty-eight and feel that i can speak on the subject with the wisdom that comes with age and experience and increased maturity.
it was kind of a big fat flop.
there were definitely certain 'wins': i'm learning to accessorize. i shave my legs almost every time i shower (though, i only shower like three times a week, and i do it every time simply because i can't remember when the last time was otherwise). i went clothes-shopping once, which is actually a spike in frequency. i patronized sally beauty supply. i developed a kardashian-sized badonk, which is at least matronly on me, if not girly. and in terms of being utterly and inherently feminine, i did gestate and deliver an entire baby. so i'd call that a 'win.'
but really, i was still the same-old-me. my yoga pants got worn so often they became entirely and non-hyperbolically see-through. that one time that i did purchase clothes, my main purchases were four t-shirts: two white ones, a grey one, and a (zingy! out-of-the-ordinary!) one with a grey-and-white pattern. try as i may have to kick the habit of biting my nails, they are still as ragged and junky as those of my twenty-six-year-old self.
so i'm having to face reality that this whole life is probably a slow process of learning what it means to be feminine, both outwardly (which is what my vain and sinful self cares most about) and inwardly. there are seasons, there are stages of growth, there are beloved yoga pants that thwart your efforts. and that's cool. all that 'journey' time will just give me more opportunity to watch youtube tutorials on how to blowdry curly hair and grow out my eyebrows. as though i need the help.