Note: As part of growing and changing, I have renamed the blog, because life doesn’t begin at 60, and neither does old age, or sage wisdom, or fixed ideas, or whatever is supposed to happen then. Like flowers we are all blooming, and we all have our cycles. Recycling is beginning again. So here goes.
It’s been awhile, a honeymoon period, if you will, during which I sat with my Mother-of-the Bride-dress decision. Like true love, you do know when it’s the one. But not right away, it seems. Self-image is an interesting thing; it embodies a longing for what you used to be, an understanding of who you are now, and a desire for what you dare to become, as well as how you want others to see you. For a long time I didn’t know the answers to these questions. Raised as a people pleaser, as so many of us are, it took awhile before I got to know what I wanted. And then find the courage to actually go there. Just as you need to bring something to a relationship, a dress is an adornment, you have to bring yourself to it, then it works for you. So I had to work that one out before really committing. Or maybe I’m just crazy. 
Because the wedding of adults is not the province of the parents, I had to give up my ideas of a traditional affair. Once that was achieved, then it became a question of what looks and feels good–to me. When I couldn’t answer the question, “Why not red?” then all bets were off; as long as it was comfortable to wear and made me look good (as opposed to looking good on its own), it was a winner. And so it is.
Get ready, world. It’s gonna be fun!
Now all I need are the right accessories……..
Suggestions accepted!
The Other Side of 60 