Last week I went to the doctor and had to fill out a little questionnaire. One of the questions was “Do you ever feel
old or unattractive?” Initially I
laughed and thought what women over 40 would not answer yes to that? I even told the doctor that they should just pre-mark
the form with yes to save time and we laughed.
However, this week I found myself in a bit of a sad place and those
words kept haunting me. Getting ready
for work? Unattractive. Bathroom mirror
at work under the fluorescents? Old.
Rearview mirror? Old,
unattractive and insanely hairy. Sigh.
I guess sad place might be a bit of an understatement:
tsunami of hormones and sinkhole of sadness might be more descriptive. I was sad about being made to realize that
there are days I feel old and unattractive.
My parents were going to come down for Thanksgiving but my dad is sick
so they can’t come. William wanted me to
learn to play his trumpet for his winter concert and while I wanted to, my
stupid, failing, Bell’s palsy ruined lip won’t seal and I can’t play it. I am not going to lie; I went upstairs and
cried my pillow wet when that happened. The
whole time I was weeping copiously I was thinking how vain I am, how stupid
this all was and how I was just sad. And while it is okay to be sad, it is okay
to cry and it is okay to mope, who wants to go around like that for more than a
day or two?
Today I gave myself back some power. It wasn’t straightening my hair or stopping
to recognize all the good in my life or even tying my decorative scarf in a
jaunty way. My power came from wearing
the most gigantic pair of underwear I own.
You should be thinking granny panties, stay-away-panties, putting the
pant-in-panties-panties. Bloomers
even. I am not worried about panty lines
because they are so big there aren’t any.
They are so big that their waistband sits higher than the waistband of
my pants. They are even so boring they
are beige. Not ecru or wheat colored or
farmer’s field brown, they are just beige.
The first time Bill saw them and asked what the hell I was wearing I
lied and said I must have grabbed the wrong ones by mistake. I didn’t.
I saw them beckoning me from the bin and I grabbed them because sometimes
you just need to wear a gigantic pair of underwear. Don’t judge me: I know you all have that one
pair. Heck I know some of you would
still be wearing the mesh panties they send you home from the hospital in with
your newborn if you could. They
are comforting and actually so gigantic they are almost swaddling in their
protection. They seem to be acting as
armor against not only the world, but deflecting the negativity circling from
within as well.
 |
| I definitely know why she is smiling. |
Sometimes when you are not comfortable in your inside, you
need to find comfort on the outside. I used to have an Old Navy Christmas tree
shirt that I would wear when I felt sad.
Over the course of ten years, I would wear that thing around the house
as a warning. I would wear it under a sweater to work and feel like I was
wearing a hug. Eventually it got so
threadbare and disgusting even I had to admit it had served its time and
quietly retired it. Bill has a big white
sweater he wears when he is feeling blue so I know that men do this too. Somehow sitting here knowing I am wearing the
most gigantic pair of underwear in the world has me feeling so much
better. I am no longer old and
unattractive, I am as young as I am ever going to be and feeling in great
shape! Take that questionnaire! I am still sad my parents can’t come but not
so sad I will tell my daughter I don’t feel like Thanksgiving this year. Let’s cook!
Let’s make a huge turkey for just two and more side dishes than four
people can eat! And while I can’t play
the trumpet, I will rest comfortably in my giant underwear and the fact William
said that he and I can always play piano together.
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