Yesterday morning I went to the grocery store at about 7:30 in the morning. Me? I was in way faded cut-offs, a dingy tank top, and flip-flops...and happily spacy and groggy. I wandered the aisles getting this and that from the list my family had compiled. As I rounded by the sushi section I crossed paths and locked gazes with fella wearing the sweetest little dress, cute little shoes, adorable cat-eye glasses, make-up more carefully applied than I have ever done, and what only be called a 7:00 AM shadow. I gently shared my smile with him and he returned it with a look so heavy with sadness it broke my heart. We both continued walking in opposite directions, our carts taking the lead.
After our encounter I realized that I don't really ever think about it, but it's so very easy for me to be a girl (yeah, I'm forty-six, but I still call myself a "girl"). I get up and that's simply who I am. There's no effort to it...particularly for me as I'm a
way low effort kind of girl. I don't have any feelings from my depths that I need to do anything else. So, I very much hope that that man (or woman, if that's the preferred gender name) has a life surrounded by loving and appreciative family and friends. The mom in me wants to give him a big ol' "you are loved just as you are" hug.
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