October 14, 2000
Confidence
Tired. Oh god. So amazingly tired. Look at the picture. It takes energy to look that good! Little story. Think back, to the story of the eeeevil leopard print dress. Well, after writing Wednesday's entry, Jo called me at work and told me about a dance Friday night that she and Eric and a few other people were going to. I was invited to come along. It was being billed as a formal thing, but really only as formal as you wanted to be. Instantly I thought, "Hooray! I can wear my dress!"
So I did. Obviously. (There are a few other pictures up.)
I can't tell you the last time I dressed up and went dancing. Years. It's easily been years. I felt wonderful. I was so worried that I'd feel naked or stared at or laughed at for wearing something that I felt was so revealing. Instead I got nothing but compliments. There may have been one or two disdainful looks, but I was able to ignore them. By and large, it was a terrific experience, not to mention a lot of fun. Not only did I get compliments, but I got flirted with. I even ended up with a few phone numbers.
I'm a little awed. Was that all the result of purely a change in body confidence? Was it just the crowd I was with? When I went dancing before, years ago, that never happened. Ever. I got politely ignored, confidence or no.
I'm not sure I describe exactly how it felt. I noticed a definite change in the energy that ran through me. I think it even shows in the pictures, beyond the difference of makeup and clothing alone. My laugh was more frequent. It was lower, richer, louder, a sound that came from somewhere in the depths of my stomach and just rolled out of my throat. My voice was the same way (except when I got flustered by some of the flirting). Powerful. I felt very powerful. It's close to the feeling I used to get at SCA events. It's a very sexual feeling, but that's not all there is to it.
I think it was just honest-to-god, bone-deep confidence in my appearance. It's a feeling that comes so seldom to me, I don't know how to name it or understand it when it does come along. I like it. I want it back. I want that feeling to be like a best friend, something I understand and revel in the presence of, but something I'm so comfortable with that I know it will always be there.
Posted by Lisa at October 14, 2000 08:31 PM
